Harry Potter and the New Neighbour
by Arkaidy
Summary: If there was one thing that Vernon Dursley of number four Privet drive disliked more than his good for nothing, scrawny, freak of a nephew, it was NOISE. Like the whine of a moving van, for instance...
1. Moving Day

Part One: "Moving Day"

* * *

If there was one thing that Vernon Dursley of number four Privet drive disliked more than his good for nothing, scrawny, freak of a nephew, it was noise.

_Noise._

That horrid white rat-on-wings the boy kept as a pet rattled the door of its cage whenever it was not allowed to fly at night. The boy stomped around the house and blamed Vernon's own _darling_ son for the racket and broken floorboards. He broke the dishes and screamed at the little cuts on his fingers when he did the weeding and grunted and moaned when he had to mow the lawn.

Worst of all were the whimpering and cries that came from the sissy's room at night.

He screamed out names in his sleep and called ridiculous things like "No, please don't kill Cedric!" or "Sirius, where are you?" or "Avedakedavravoldemort!" (Whatever mumbo jumbo nonsense an _avedakedavravoldemort_ was. Perhaps it was a part of that 'Quidditch' that Vernon had caught Harry reading magazines about. He had burned those magazines - unnatural moving photographs and all.)

But as annoying as all that noise was, there was a noise that he loathed even more: moving trucks.

They meant some _new_ annoyance was arriving.

Vernon Dursley could deal with already-established annoyances; he knew how to handle them. It was the _new_ ones that set him on edge.

There was nothing _quite _so grating as the whine of brakes being squeezed lightly to graze off hot tires, nothing so jarring as the thin, tinny wail of the backing-up-beeps they made. And nothing so horrid as the electric screech of the American music that screamed out of the cab as the young woman in the torn denim trousers hopped down and ran under the cover of an upraised jacket to the front door.

Number three Privet Drive had been empty for three whole months and his darling Petunia had despaired of it ever being filled again. It was the house into which their own living room windows afforded the best view, and if there was no one in the house to gossip about and spy on, then what was the point of the house being there, ruining her perfectly good view into the back yard of number three Magnolia Crescent?

When she had heard the moving van arrive, Petunia had been so happy she had begun to make cookies, despite Dudley's new diet. Even the grim grey sky had not dampened her spirits. The world outside had been submerged in a very sudden downpour just minutes prior to the moving van's arrival.

His nephew had run into the house shortly after the rain began and tried to whine his way out of having to finish fertilizing the rose garden, just because he was a little wet. Vernon had told him sternly that hard work built character, and to quit being such a girl. Really, the boy did nothing of any use to anyone - as far as Vernon could tell, all he did at that horrid school of his was sit around all day waving a stick and muttering strange words like 'avedakedavravoldemort'.

He wasn't even on the school football team, scrawny little bugger that he was.

Dudley on the other hand - Dudley had written home to tell them that he was the captain of the chess club and the wrestling club. His nephew's sudden blurted comment that Dudley probably won just because he could sit on his opponents had earned him a whole twenty four hours without meals_. Honestly!_ Did they not teach _manners_ at that damned crackpot excuse for a school?

Vernon chewed on the bottom of his moustache thoughtfully, smelling the baking cookies and peering out the lace curtains at the commotion across the way. The rain did not seem to be letting up, and he feared that the golf course would not be dry in time for his ten a.m. tee time the next morning, at the green with the manager of an equally successful screw-manufacturing company.

The young woman (and Vernon had to admit, happily married man that he was, he didn't mind watching her bend over to pick up something from the floor of the box), still wearing her jacket over her head, dashed back and forth several times between the back of the van and the front door of the house, and Vernon frowned.

Was she moving in alone?

Absurd!

Her husband ought to be there to help her unpack, oughtn't he?

Unless she was one of those divorced women... _scandalous_. That's what it was. Teenaged pregnancy and divorce were the plague of the younger generations. No morals, no responsibility. He blamed her parents.

He considered sending the boy over to lend her aid, then quickly vetoed the idea. It was her fault she was divorced in the first place - probably had a wicked-sharp tongue - let her struggle with her unpacking alone. Besides, it would do no good for the young lady's first impression of the Dursleys to be that unnatural freak.

Vernon turned away from the window and went back to where he had abandoned his afternoon tea and the Saturday newspaper.

* * *

Several hours passed before Vernon found himself once more at the front window of his house. The bright yellow moving van in the driveway of number three had been replaced by a low, violet sports car that made him bristle - the noise that thing would make! And she would inevitably gun the engine as she raced out to do whatever disgusting things young punk girls did in the ungodly hours of the night.

Petunia slipped up to the window beside him and said: "Oughtn't we invite her to dinner tonight?"

"Why?" he grumbled, although his annoyance was mostly left over from catching the boy making puddles of muck all the way to his room when he came in from the back garden. Couldn't he have just stood on the stoop 'till he dried?

"Well, she _is_ new in the neighbourhood, and it would be very improper not to offer her a meal of welcome. Besides, I thought I saw Ethel Jones next door pulling her good roasting pan out of the cabinets."

Vernon bristled again - damned if Ethel and Roger Jones would be first to do anything when Vernon Dursley could prove that he was faster, richer, smarter, and better.

"Fine," he huffed, "send over the boy."

"Not Dudders?" his wife said softly.

"And risk him getting his new loafers wet? Send Harry - no one will care if _he's_ soaked."

* * *

Anathema Oldwyn had never seen anything quite so curious as the scrawny boy in an oversized, faded tee-shirt that declared that he had survived the _'Python Experience! At the London Zoo!'_ He was drenched to the bone and peered up at her from under worn round glasses with vibrant green eyes. He looked equal parts annoyed to be out in the rain, relieved to be outside, and curious about her.

"Hallo?" she said, opening the door just enough that she could see him. She shifted the red lollipop in her mouth over to the side of her cheek with her tongue. The white paper stick stuck out of the corner of her lips like an unlit cigarette.

"Hallo," he replied softly, and she was slightly startled to hear how deep his voice was. She reassessed her previous impression about him - he wasn't a boy, he was a young man, probably only just fifteen or sixteen. It was the oversized shirt that made him look so young and thin. "My name is Harry, and I live over in Number Four." He pointed briefly behind him.

Ana lifted her eyes and narrowed them at the three pale faces that peered through the lace at her across the street. _Figures._ _Finally able to get a nice inconspicuous house in the middle of the nice inconspicuous suburbs and the Spying-Neighbours-From-Hell have to live across the way._ She made a mental note to draw her front room blinds and leave them drawn... as soon as she had them up.

"I'm Ana. What can I do for you, Harry from Number Four?"

"My aunt wants to invite you for dinner tonight, if that's alright." Harry looked vaguely annoyed with the mention of his aunt and that intrigued her.

Ana, who had not been anywhere near to a good home-cooked meal in at least six months, and relished the idea of figuring out her new Spying-Neighbours-From-Hell before she had to engage in any counter-annoyance-tactics, thought about it for all of three seconds. "Sure - just let me grab my umbrella. C'mon in for a second, Harry from Number Four." She stepped back to give Harry room to enter, then caught sight of the dirty, dusty handprints on her pants. "Actually, I'll just run upstairs and put on something less ick."

Warily, Harry accepted the invitation and stepped into the front hall. He kept one hand wrapped around the handle of his wand, which was jammed into his back pocket, tucked under his overly-large tee-shirt to keep it hidden. The house was dark and dingy and desperately in need of a fresh coat of paint, a thorough bleaching, and at least two new light-bulbs.

And nope, there were no Death Eaters. He let go of his wand.

Ana dashed up the stairs to her bedroom. Harry watched her go and deduced that she had moved into the master. Number three was built exactly the same as number four, only in reverse. The house was a mirror image of his Aunt and Uncle's, which meant that there were at least two empty bedrooms upstairs. Harry wondered why she'd bought such a big house if it was only her living in it.

Harry glanced over at the stairwell and frowned. She had a cupboard under the stairs as well, although Harry was pretty sure Ana wasn't keeping her nephew prisoner in it.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he craned his neck around the corner and took in the piles of unopened cardboard boxes in the living room. The windows were glazed over with a filmy layer of grime and the light coming in was filled with dancing dust motes.

"Depressing, isn't it?" Ana's voice floated down from the top of the stairs, as she walked down to stand at his side. He lollipop was gone. Harry jumped and lowered his eyes, suitably embarrassed for having been caught prying. "I hate knowing that it's going to all be there for me to unpack when I get home."

"Yeah," Harry said, unsure of what else to add.

She smiled at him fondly, finding his embarrassment adorable. "Right then, Harry-from-Number-Four. Lead on."

Harry allowed himself a little smirk at his new nickname, but quickly quashed it as the front door opened. He didn't want his Uncle to see it. Ana locked the door behind her and together they dashed across the street under the cover of her bright red and yellow spotted umbrella.

* * *

Vernon ushered her inside with all due pomp and ceremony and Harry had to repress another quick smile as he realized that she had changed out of her torn denim trousers into thick, black army boots and matching black fatigue pants with a black tank top. A little silver sword pendant dangled from a thin black necklace, looking like a miniature crucifix - definitely NOT what a proper young lady ought to wear to dinner.

It was obvious by the look on Vernon's face as he graciously took her rain slicker that he was thinking the same.

"Thanks so much for the invite!" she said cheerfully, and Harry smirked again as his Uncle bristled. "The name is Ana. Ana Oldwyn."

"Get up stairs and get changed into something suitable," Vernon hissed at Harry, shoving Ana's slicker and umbrella into his nephew's hands. Then, in a louder voice added, "Welcome to Privet Drive, Mrs. Oldwyn."

Ana laughed, a free and unconstrained young woman's laugh, the likes of which Harry hadn't heard since the last day of classes when he had parted ways with Hermione and Ron on the Hogwarts Express, half a month earlier. He hung up her slicker in the hall closet, and put her umbrella in the bin by the door, then dashed upstairs to change. He left the door open a crack, lest he miss some of the conversation.

"Oh, I'm not a Mrs. anything!" Harry heard Ana protest with a chuckle, "and Ana's just fine, Mr...?" Harry could imagine her dark-painted lips pulling back into a full smile.

"Dursley," Uncle Vernon said tightly. "Vernon Dursley - and this is my wife, Petunia and our son, Dudley."

"And the other one?" Harry heard Ana ask as he quickly changed into warmer and drier clothes.

He wished he could wear his Muggle clothing that fit, the stuff he had sent Hermione out to buy for him while he was in London last year, staying at Grimmauld place before his fifth (and most miserable) year. But if he did, Harry knew that Uncle Vernon would demand to know how he had paid for it, and then the secret of his stash of Galleons may come out, and that was the last thing he wanted.

The Dursleys would go bonkers if they found out he had a pile of Gold in a vault underneath London. It might not be theirs, but he knew that they would do their best to make it so.

As Harry gathered up the bottoms of Dudley's old grey sweat pants, which pooled around his ankles, and left his room, he heard Uncle Vernon reply. "Which one? Oh, him. He's our nephew, Harry. We've very graciously opened our home to him after his parents were horribly and terribly killed in quite a tragic car crash."

"Ah-hm," Ana hummed, and by the look on her face that Harry caught on his way down the stairs, she wasn't swallowing. Harry found himself liking her already.

Dinner was served shortly thereafter, and Ana made all the appropriate 'this is fantastic' and 'thank you ever so much' noises required of proper dinner guests, while shooting looks over the table to the equally irritated Harry and spitting the overcooked and mostly dry and burnt food into her napkin ever so discreetly.

She, very graciously, Harry thought, answered all of Petunia and Vernon's rather invasive questions about how old she was (23), where she had attended school (A small university near Liverpool), where she was currently employed (owned her own blogging' company, which earned her a pair of glares), and where her husband was (she coughed, blushed once and said 'not married, never was, never planned on it').

Her name, she had to explain, Anathema Oldwyn, was mostly 'Olde' English, as her parents had been fond of well... really strange old names. When asked where they were she told the Dursleys that they also had died in a 'horrible and terrible, quite a tragic car crash', which left Vernon with a look on his face that suggested his salad'd had some chunks of lemon in it. They even went so far as to question her choice of hairstyle, a mopish, chunky, carefully-waxed mess that was a very unnatural black cherry colour filled with electric purple and yellow streaks. She told them it was what all the young were sporting this season, with a mischievous wink in Harry's direction.

Harry thought she looked like a punk-goth girl who had just gotten too lazy to put on all the makeup and jewelry. He bet she had a tattoo hiding somewhere inappropriate, then forced the thoughts away before he could start envisioning what and where.

Ana was almost twice his age.

Which was a pity. Really.

Dudley looked too occupied with his meal to be confused. Or to notice how _hot_ Ana was. Which was so much the better, to Harry. No competition.

Harry shook his head and forced _those_ thoughts away too.

Had he _really_ just called the goth girl from across the road _hot_?

Sometime around the pudding and tea she sat up slightly and stared past him, to the back garden. Harry turned in his seat to see what in the back yard had her so transfixed. "Hey," she said softly, even as he felt the skin along his spine goosebump. "Is that your dog? His eyes are gorgeous."

"_Dog!_" Vernon screamed and jumped from his feet to chase it away with cries of "Out of my rose bushes, you filthy, mangy mongrel!"

And indeed it did look like a filthy mangy mongrel. The dog was large and black and had patches of fur missing and appeared as if it hadn't eaten in weeks. But its eyes were a piercing blue-grey that Harry recognized far too well.

"Sirius," he whispered under his breath and was almost out of his seat before his Aunt Petunia screeched at him to sit down and stop gawking at the stray mutt.

Harry clenched his eyes shut and bit his tongue and did as he was told. He tasted blood.

Ms. Oldwyn's nose wrinked.

If that mutt had really been Sirius, he would be back.

Already he was composing the letter he'd send with Hedwig in his head. It started with something like: "SIRIUS! IS THAT YOU! ARE YOU OKAY!".

Across the table, he felt Ana's eyes boring into him, and he raised his green gaze to meet her blue one. For a moment he was startled to see just how _very_ blue her eyes were - he hadn't noticed before, but they were nearly glowing, they were so bright. _How had he missed them?_

She smiled at him softly, and he excused himself to do the dishes.

He rushed through them as Ana finished pretending to sip her tea in the front room with his Aunt and Uncle, then raced upstairs. He had barely finished scrawling out his note and sending Hedwig on her way when there was a soft knock at his door.

"Hallo, Harry?" Ana called gently. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" he replied, "Don't come in, it's a mess!" It wasn't a mess. Harry was used to keeping small spaces very tidy – he'd lived in a cupboard for most of his life, and then at school he had to share a room with five other guys. However, Harry had Gryffindor and Hogwarts banners and scarves and moving Wizard's photos all over his night-table and walls, and he didn't have the time to stash them. He opened the door a fraction, just enough for him to poke his head out of, and looked up at her. "Yes?"

Ana laughed gently - "I asked your Uncle if you could come and help me unpack tomorrow, and he said it was okay so long as you finish mowing the lawn first."

Harry frowned. "That'll take hours if it's still raining like this."

"I'll make sure it doesn't." Ana winked at him. "How's your tongue?"

"My tongue?"

"You bit it."

Harry felt the blood rising on his cheeks. No one had ever asked after his health at Privet Drive before. "I… uh… I'm fine. Bad aim. I stopped bleeding."

She smiled a sort of secret smile, then turned on her heel and was off down the stairs in a billow of rain slicker and short, cherry-black hair.

Harry found himself smiling softly as he closed his door and lay back on his bed, waiting for a reply from the dog. There were readings and essays waiting for him under the loose floorboard under his bed. He knew he should do some of his summer homework or something to help pass the time, but how could he possibly concentrate on something as abstract as potions when there was the possibility that Sirius was alive?

Closing his eyes to force himself to relive happier times - Ana reminded him so much of Tonks - and not the terrifyingly helpless moment when he had watched his Godfather slip behind the Veil, Harry tried not to strain his ears for the sound of Hedwig's wings.

When it finally came, twenty minutes later, he jumped up and pulled the message off her leg so quickly she squawked at him for the indignity of it and pranced over to her water dish with a disgusted look at Harry.

The message was scrawled in wet mud on the back of his own note paper –

"IT'S ME. OK." And a sloppy paw-print.

For the first time since Sirius had 'died', Harry found himself crying. But these tears were happy ones.

For a few moments, he indulged in the tears, then he scrubbed them off his face and pressed his nose to the window. He couldn't see the big black, Grim-like dog, but it didn't mean Sirius wasn't there.

Harry wanted to go downstairs and into the back yard immediately, but he knew that he'd never be able to make up an excuse convincing enough to get away with it.

He would have to wait until the Dursleys were asleep.

Harry flicked his room light off and on a few times, hoping that out in the yard Sirius could see it. He waved at the window and held up a finger and hoped that it was message enough to Sirius to tell him to wait.

* * *

The ensuing hour was hell to Harry.

He sat on the edge of his bed, trying not to bite his lip in frustration as he heard his Aunt, Unlce and cousin go through their nightly routines before going to bed. He hear the toilet flush, the water running, the sound of people brushing their teeth, the sound of Dudley 'sneaking' to the kitchen for a 'snack' (that is, all the leftovers he could stuff in his face before Aunt Petunia went downstairs to stop him), and the groan of the springs of all their beds as they finally went to sleep.

Harry waited until he could hear the snores from Uncle Vernon and Dudley before he carefully stood up and slipped on a spare sweater and his slippers.

As an afterthought, his father's Invisibility Cloak. He had managed to slip out of his trunk before it had been locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the season, when Uncle Vernon had been too busy cussing at Hedwig to notice.

Careful not the tread on the squeaky floorboards, Harry tip-toed downstairs. Harry also retrieved an old blanket from a pile in the sitting room that Aunt Petunia had meant to give to a second hand store and was sure that she wouldn't even notice was missing.

He pulled as much of the leftovers he dared to take out of the fridge, as well as a bottle of fresh milk and a shallow breakfast dish. He knew Dudley would get blamed for them missing in the morning, and that Dudley would pound him for it later, but he didn't care. Opening the back door slowly so as not to creak the hinges, he stepped outside, down the porch, and out under the bush that was under his window. The Dursleys would not be able to see him from that angle, if they cared to look outside.

Pushing the cloak back so his head and hands were visible to himself, he lay out the dish and poured the milk into it, then unwrapped the leftovers and set them down beside it, shoving the cellophane into his pocket. He hoped that Sirius was nearby and would be able to smell the cold food.

Before he had waited for long, a snuffly, black snout poked out of the hedgerow that divided the backyard of number four from that of number two and Harry had to hold back his shout of joy.

"Sirius?" he whispered instead and the head poked all the way out, followed by the body. "Is that you?"

The dog nodded and then brushed past Harry towards the food, pausing momentarily for a quick lick on the boy's cheek. Harry said nothing as he watched his godfather wolf down the meal. Then Sirius changed back into a human, sitting cross-legged beside Harry. He gratefully accepted the second-hand blanket that Harry tossed over his shoulders, and Harry threw himself at Sirius. For a long while they simply held each other close, saying nothing, just happy to see one another again.

"Sirius," Harry started, "I saw you fall... b-beyond the Veil, and you didn't answer the mirror! What happened, where have you been? Are you okay? You look terrible and I--"

Sirius cut him off with a wave of his hand and a short, dry, weak chuckle. "Later, Harry. I've been walking for weeks. Let me just sit for a bit."

"Okay," Harry said softly and, for the moment, was content.


	2. Beyond the Veil

Part Two: "Beyond the Veil"

* * *

"_My_, but your Uncle is a thoroughly unpleasant man, isn't he?" was the first thing Sirius said once he'd caught his breath and had a chance to sit for a bit. "Can't believe that he's related to Lily at all."

"Lily was my Aunt's sister," Harry corrected him, and felt Sirius shrug as he leaned against him.

"Ah."

"So?" Harry prompted. "Where have you been?"

Sirius let out a long sigh that seemed to rattle his too-thin chest. "Beyond the Veil, Harry."

"Yeah, I know that," Harry said impatiently and sat back to meet Sirius' piercing grey eyes.

His Godfather once more looked like he had on his 'wanted' posters three years earlier: thin, starved, sallow, exhausted, and filthy. His black hair brushed the middle of his back and was shot through with white. Two long ribbons of silver arced back from his temples - if his hair was clean and tied back, they might've made him look dignified.

Right now, they just made him look weary.

The scraggly beard on his chin was also peppered with silver and Harry secretly thought that never had his Godfather looked so, well... _old_ before. His robes were muddy and tattered along the hems, and just as filthy as the rest of him. If he hadn't been in his dog form, someone probably would have called the cops on him for being 'indecent'.

"Sirius," Harry breathed, "Have you been to Grimauld Place? The Order should know..."

"I'll go - after. Not yet. I wanted to see you first. Nothing there for me..." Sirius let forth another dry laugh. "Just a painting of my mother that screams at me."

Harry shrugged. "Why not just cut out the wall?"

Sirius blinked. "Cut out the wall?"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it all summer - I saw them do it on a television show about home renovations. If we can't get her off the wall, why not just cut out the wall? We could just rent a chainsaw."

"Tell-a-vision?" Sirius repeated uncertainly. "Chain-saw?"

For a split second, despite the mud and the cold, Harry couldn't help himself: he smiled, happy to be around Magical folk again. "I'll explain later. The Veil?"

"I... don't really want to talk about it Harry. It ... wasn't all that nice."

Harry watched silently as Sirius averted his haunted grey eyes, scratching listlessly at the whiskers on his neck. "Worse than Azkaban?"

"Not worse... different."

"How so?"

"Harry," Sirius whined, hand dropping to pull the blankets closer around him, sounding like his dog self, "Please don't make me..."

Harry wanted to let up, but he _had_ to know. _Had_ to know so he could... protect anyone else. _Everyone_ else. Everyone he _could_. If he knew the secret of how to escape the Veil, none of the Order of the Phoenix would need to worry about its threat ever again. "Sirius - just tell me, now, just once, and I won't ask anything else. I'll tell the Order, so you don't have to."

Sirius sucked in a deep breath and leaned back on his hands, moving slowly and wearily, as if his joints pained him. Harry could see small angry red scrapes up and down his arms, a few on his face, lots on his shoulders. Scratches from the undergrowth he had hidden in? Or something else?

The breath Sirius had sucked in was released with a shudder and a hiccup. "If Azkaban was the place that made you relive your most horrifying memories, then the Veil is a place that..." Sirius fumbled with his words for a moment. "Dammit, I'm so c-cold..."

Harry told him to hold on, rushed inside in his cloak and made the fastest pot of tea he had ever remembered making, then brought it out in a thermos for Sirius, who thanked him heartily for the warmth it provided.

"The Veil is a place that..." Sirius began again after a long swig of the steaming tea, seeming to not care as it scalded his tongue. He clutched the thermos against his chest, as if willing the heat to seep into his skin through the plastic. "...that... takes the place you knew and ... makes it not what you want." He frowned at his own vagueness and Harry waited him out. "Everything that you ever feared would become reality ... is. It's not really the ... the land of the Dead, so much as it's the... the land of Dead Fears. Dead Nightmares." He turned his face to Harry. "Does that make sense?"

Harry nodded his head, wanting to be encouraging, although he had no clue what Sirius meant. Maybe Dumbledore would.

Sirius went on, his gaze fixed on the clouds in the middle distance. He took another long pull of the hot tea, and his shivers subsided slightly. "I was always afraid that I... that I would turn out like Regulus, my brother, and then... there... I was, and I couldn't stop myself. I... I was a Death Eater, and I was standing beside V-v-vol-... You-Know-Who, and we'd killed so many innocent Muggles and," she shuddered, "and I ... I killed them... with my own wand... James and ... and L-Lily," his thin shoulders began to shudder and Harry's eyes and mouth grew round in astonishment, "It was m-me... and I ... they made me... but I didn't want to! And Lily was screaming at me, begging me not to... not to hurt her... I didn't want to hurt her... and Peter too, I killed him too, and you, oh, Harry, you were just a little baby and I...!" The sobs came in full force and wracked Sirius' frame.

He dropped the thermos, the rest of the tea spilling out into the damp grass, steaming slightly before it vanished into the soil.

For a second, Harry was horrified. _Sirius_ was supposed to be the strong one, wasn't he? Sirius was the adult, the ex-convict with the mischievous smile. The charming rogue who knew everything and always gave Harry the best advice, and the best ideas for getting into trouble. Godfathers weren't supposed to break down into half-hysterical sobs under rosebushes, were they?

Not knowing what else to do, Harry carefully put his arms around his Godfather. "It's okay, I'm alright, really, I am!"

Sirius turned his face into Harry's shoulder, and his ramblings became more incoherent, his shoulders shaking harder, "Moony, oh Moony, chained him up... gave him ... he... maul people ... f-full moon... hated me... hated me... they all hated me, and I wanted to die, to just die..."

"How did you get out?" Harry asked, desperate to get Sirius' line of thought away from the horrors he had been forced to dole out on those he had loved. Harry ran one hand up and down Sirius' spine, hopping the petting motion was soothing.

Against Harry's chest, Sirius shook his head, pressed his palms against his temples as if trying to force everything in his head to fuse and settle down. "Don't know, I don't know. Saw a mirror, heard your voice, had to find you, had to protect you... you were in the mirror Harry, so I just... I just crashed thought the mirror, you know? And then I was... I don't know where I was... laying on the floor, bleeding all over, glass in my palms...there was a mirror beside me and I'd smashed it. When I looked down at the pieces ... faces... bloody faces... Regulus and ... Lily... James... Moony...you... I ran away. I was in a shop, somewhere... Spain maybe, or Portugal. Antiques. I just... I became a dog and I ran. I picked all the glass out of my hands and I ...I ran, and ran, and I got on a boat and I just... hid. For a long time."

"The mirror?" Harry repeated, thinking of the time in his dorm when he had screamed at the mirror Sirius had given him to contact him through. So it HAD worked! And somehow it had helped Sirius come back into the world of the living.

He still had the mirror, shoved in the bottom of his trunk, locked under the stairs in the small cupboard that had once been his bedroom. He wondered if it would work the same way with any old mirror. If so, then Sirius had just made the Veil a non-threat to the Order.

"Alice in Wonderland - Alice Through The Looking Glass... makes you wonder which stories are true."

Sirius managed another laugh, only this one was wet and burbly. "I'll have to read 'em."

"I'm so happy you're safe," Harry said suddenly and hugged Sirius fiercely. "We'll get you to Grimauld Place as soon as possible."

"Don't wanna," Sirius said softly. The tears began to subside. "They'll lock me up. Keep me 'safe'. Can I... just stay here?"

"Uncle Vernon would never let me take in a stray."

Sirius whimpered again and Harry realized just how tired and sick his Godfather really was - both physically and mentally. His hands were filthy, and Harry wondered if the cuts on the palms were infected. He was weak and timid and really rather doggish. Harry reflected briefly on the possibility of this doggishness was maybe this was his mind's way of coping with the horrors he'd seen; did dogs have nightmares?

"Alright then," Harry said softly, cradling his Godfather's limp form as the older man's strength started to give way. Sirius began to slip sideways and Harry caught him just in time. "I'll do what I can. Sleep under the bush tonight, and I can..." Harry trailed off. He was silent for a moment before, "that may work..."

He prodded Sirius to his feet and coaxed the older Wizard into taking his dog form. Then, throwing the Invisibility Cloak over the both of them, he led Sirius around the house and across the street to the front porch of Ana's house. There he laid the spare blanket on mud of the abandoned garden by her front door and helped Sirius lay down on it.

"Hopefully Ms. Oldwyn is nicer than my Uncle," Harry whispered. "I'll see you tomorrow, Sirius."

The dog whined and closed its eyes. Harry scratched the door and ran.

* * *

Ana heard the low whine of an animal outside of her front window, followed by a scratching sound, and stood up from her unpacking to peer past her blinds. It was nearing ten o'clock, and she was sweaty and dusty from her work. She had another lollipop hanging from her lip and she sucked on it briefly as she walked over to the large bay window at the front of her house. She was surprised to find the big black dog from earlier laying in what would eventually become her front garden.

Setting aside her odds and ends and throwing her hair up into a small, stubbly ponytail to keep it off her sweaty neck, she opened her front door and went outside to crouch beside the dog.

"Oi, pup," she said softly, one hand hovering just above the mutt's head. "Hey you, wake up. Hope your old owners didn't used to live here, doggy."

The dog lifted one eyelid. It's eyes were a piercing, brilliant grey.

"You look like shit," she told the dog and its mouth opened in what she assumed was a doggy smirk. "You're shivering. C'mon inside, I'll get you a bowl of water and a hot bath. Sound decent?"

The dog pulled itself to its feet at her whistle and slap on her knees, and followed her calmly into the house.

"Geeze, someone trained you well," she commented as he followed her up the stairs. "And you don't seem to have a problem with me. That's new."

She drew a bath in the tub with bubbles, and the dog nearly leapt in. He accepted the offered bowl of water when she placed it on the side of the tub, and leaned into her touch as she scrubbed his patchy fur clean. She took careful care to clean out the many cuts on the pads of his feet and along his shoulders and legs.

When she tried to scrub under his tail, the dog sat down in the water quickly, pinning her hands under his flanks and dragging her into the water up to her shoulders. She sputtered, choked, and yanked her hands free. For a second she glared, and then she burst out into peals of laughter.

A _modest_ dog!

He answered her laughed with a tongue-lolling doggie smirk and a short bark.

After drying him (he seemed too weak to shake himself dry), and wrangling him out of the tub, she pulled a few cushions and towels out of their boxes and set him up a bed in the corner of the living room, then resumed unpacking.

The dog slumped gratefully into the corner and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Harry sprang from his bed and mowed the lawn before Dudley had even waddled downstairs. Uncle Vernon was thankfully at the golf course, so Harry shouted a "I'm going over to Ms. Oldwyn's," to his Aunt and ran out the door before she could tell him 'no.'

Just as Ana had predicted, the weather was clear and hot. Glorious summer.

Harry was ecstatic to hear the deep rumbling 'woof!'s on the other side of the door when he rang the doorbell. It took a few minutes for Ana to open the door, and when she did she glared blearily at the sun, shading her eyes.

"Come inside," she croaked, "It's too bright."

"Who's this?" Harry asked eagerly as he toed off his shoes. Sirius rubbed into his side enthusiastically, just like a big happy puppy.

"Dunno," Ana offered, yawing and stumbling into the kitchen. Today she was wearing black yoga pants and a bright red tank top. He had obviously woken her up. Harry watched as she retrieved a mug from a box, cleaned it in the sink, and poured something from an opaque jug in the fridge into it, and leaned back against the counter, sipping. She didn't offer Harry any. "No collar, no tags."

"He may be the stray you saw last night," Harry said, and the dog 'woof'ed in agreement. "Will you keep him?"

Ana shrugged. "If he wants."

The rest of the afternoon was passed in helping Ana vacuum, sweep, mop and paint various sections of her house. She took off for an hour and came back with sandwich fixings and an embarrassed explanation that she had nothing in her house to feed him, or the dog, and didn't know what kind of dogfood to get.

Harry was happy just to be away from the Dursley's, even if he did have to do physical labour and was paid in plain sandwiches. Ana, strangely Harry thought, never really let him touch anything she had in her boxes, peeking inside them before she declared whether or not they were fit for unpacking yet.

She had set up the smaller spare bedroom as a sort of library and office. She had no less that six shelves lining the walls, all filled with books and sheaves of loose papers and strange nic-nacs. Some of the books were still shiny and new looking, and others looked positively ancient. There were tomes of poetry, plays, mythological texts, horror stories, penny dreadfuls, harlequins, historical fiction, and every single work by Lord Byron known to man. Ana also had the complete collected works of Anne Rice, Laurell K. Hamilton, Piers Anthony, P.N. Elrod, Isaac Asmov, J.M. Barrie, Jane Austen, Jonathan Polidori and dozens of other sci-fi and fantasy authors Harry had never heard of.

The second bedroom was used as a place to stack boxes and trunks that Ana didn't feel the need to unpack. Harry asked her why she had bought such a big house if she was only really using one bedroom and Ana had shrugged and said, "It looked like a nice, quiet neighbourhood. You know, one of those places where nothing important ever happens."

Harry swallowed his retort about Dementors and just smiled blithely.

Sirius trundled along behind them, sometimes pointing out missed cobwebs with a bark and a shake of his tail, sometimes putting pawprints on the floor on purpose.

When they stopped briefly for lunch, Ana had another mug of the drink from her jug in her fridge and made Harry a huge sandwich with way more deli meat than was really feasible - it was like she didn't know how to make a proper sandwich. The dog whined and she made him a huge sandwich, too.

"I've never had a dog, before," Ana admitted as she sat at her kitchen table to watch Sirius eat out of a bowl she had placed on the floor. "I suppose it would be nice to have someone else around this place to keep it from being all quiet and tomb-like."

"No?" Harry asked around mouthfuls. He was starving from all the work earlier, and the diet that Dudley was on and he was forced to participate in. Harry was a growing boy, an athelete. It was good to be on the smallish side, as his smallness meant he could be a faster Seeker, but it was bad if he was too weak to hold onto the broom. Not that the Dursleys would ever care. "I like dogs, especially big black ones."

"Yeah?"

"Why haven't you had a dog?"

Ana shrugged. "Most of the time, the critters don't like me."

Harry swallowed his last bite of sandwich. "Don't like you?"

Ana shrugged again and took a swig from her cup. "Most animals don't."

"That's too bad," Harry said softly. Maybe Sirius was okay with her because he was an Animagus. Once glance to the floor told him that Sirius was listening and probably thinking the same thing as well.

"Well, I guess we should name him," Ana said, following Harry's gaze down to Sirius. "Rover?"

The dog whined and sat down on the linoleum, eyes closed. Harry shook his head.

"Blackie?" he suggested.

"Too generic," Ana disagreed. The dog shot him a glare. "Half his hair is missing. How about Patches."

The dog started to growl and she reached out and scratched between his ears. The growl vanished, his tail thumping happily against the floor.

Ana laughed. "Guess not. I just can't get over how smart this pooch is. How about... Shigure?"

"Why?"

"Name of a dog in a popular comic. Never mind." Ana finished up the last of her drink and set the mug aside on the kitchen table. "That dog was kind of a pervert, anyway."

Harry laughed and Sirius growled low in his throat. "How about... Sirius?"

Ana raised an eyebrow at him, thoughtful for a second before repeating, "Sirius?"

"Yeah - the Dog Star."

Again she seemed to be contemplating. She started to speak and then stopped herself. Finally she said, "Yeah, after the dog star. Good idea."

Sirius _woofed_ his approval.

They had barely agreed to his name when there was a quick, polite rapping at the front door. Ana stood and wiped her dusty hands on her pants, and answered it. On the other side stood Petunia Dursley, looking over-dressed and very stuck in the 1950s.

"Yes, Petunia?" Ana said cordially, and Harry bit back the snicker that threatened to escape at the peevish look his Aunt favoured his new friend with at the use of her first name.

"Miss Oldwyn, if you don't mind... Miss Figg is... currently away," Petunia Dursley made another face and Harry knew why. They liked to dump him on Miss Figg whenever the family went somewhere fun and they didn't want him to ruin it. But Miss Figg wasn't around Privet Drive much, as she, like the rest of the Wizarding community, was out helping the war effort. Her most especially, as she was involved with the Order. "... and Vernon and I have been called away to the Club," (a tavern outside of the city centre that Petunia liked to _pretend_ was a country club) "So, would you mind watching Diddy-Duddy-kins and Harry?"

"Aunt Petunia!" Harry protested from behind Ana. "I'm sixteen years old! I don't need a babysitter!"

Petunia shot him a glare, which turned syrup sweet as she turned her eyes back to Ana. Harry could see Ana's eyes narrow, unimpressed. "As you can see, he's quite the handful. We don't dare leave him alone in the house. Do you mind?"

Ana split a look between Harry and his Aunt and then shrugged. "Sure, okay."

"Wonderful!" Petunia looked more relieved than she should have been allowed to look. Harry scowled. Not that he didn't _like_ Ana - he just _hated_ being treated like he was some petulant child!

He was the saviour of the known world at least _four _times over - Harry was pretty sure he could take care of himself for a few hours.

Petunia turned on her heel and clicked away to where her husband was waiting by the car. Harry waited until they were in it and all the way at the end of the street before saying again, for good measure, "I _don't_ need a babysitter."

"You know that, and I know that," Ana said, turning back into the kitchen. She shoved some unlabeled plastic bags from the fridge into her pockets, pulled on a zip-up hoodie that had been tossed onto the back of a chair, and returned to the front door. Then she pulled her umbrella from the stand beside the door and opened it up. Sirius slipped out the door behind her and Harry followed as she crossed the street under the shade of her red and yellow-spotted cover. "Diddy-Duddy-kins, on the other hand..."

Harry nodded, "Okay, you have a point there."

Dudley was waiting for them on the front stoop, a scowl on his face. "I don't need a babysitter," he snipped as she walked by him and into the house. "Especially a silly bint like you."

"Be that as it may," Ana snipped back in equally venomous tones as she folded away her umbrella. "I am here to watch you, so be a good little Diddy-Duddy-kins and do something constructive for a few hours, okay?"

"You can't bring a dog in here!" Dudley shrieked as Sirius pressed passed him.

"It's too hot for Sirius outside," Harry said behind Dudley. Dudley elbowed him viciously in the ribs and Harry went down, tumbling into the front garden. The ground was still damp from the rainfall the day before, and Harry ended up face-first in the mud.

Dudley guffawed loudly, but it dwindled into a terrified shriek as Sirius rounded on him and barked loudly, snapping his jaws a few times for good measure. Ana began to move forward to restrain him, but he stopped as soon as he was satisfied that Dudley was about to wet himself. Dudley waddled as fast as he could for the kitchen and slammed the door shut.

"Hm," she said, and left the dog to trot away and upstairs, presumably to search out a soft place to sleep, or just following Harry's familiar scent. "Unnaturally smart dog." Ana opened the door into the kitchen and walked in, and Dudley yipped from his hiding place under the table.

"Stand up, you coward," she said and Dudley stood and sat down on a chair.

"It was going to eat me!" he howled, his face growing red.

"Oh, it was not, baby. Here, shut up." She tossed a bag at Dudley's head and he just managed to fumble it so it landed on the table in front of him.

"What's this?"

"Candy."

They were brown and white hay-stack looking things and Dudley, who was never one to turn down sweets, dug in. He made a small face at the first taste, but kept going. Chocolate was chocolate. Harry entered the kitchen, thoroughly muddied, and was disgusted as Dudley laughed with his mouth full of brown and white goo.

"Ew," he said to himself, then was startled by the feel of a hand on his shoulder and a cool damp cloth on his cheek.

"Jeeze, Harry, you're a mess," Ana said softly, peering intently at his face as she wiped away the streaks of mud with a damp dishcloth. Harry thought she looked very lovely like that, her lips half parted in a smile, her gaze kind, leaning over just enough that the front of her tank top sort of fell away from her... he shoved those thoughts away. She was almost ten years his senior and besides... she was his babysitter.

And what about Cho? Didn't Harry still love her?

Harry thought very hard about Cho instead.

"I got candy and you got none!" Dudley gloated and Harry narrowed his eyes, jerking his gaze back to his whale-like cousin.

"Oh, don't be mad at him," Ana said low enough so only Harry would hear. He froze when he felt her cool hand brush back his bangs and wipe at the mud on his forehead. She paused for a brief second and he knew she had seen his scar.

"Isn't it ugly! She'll never be your girlfriend now, scar-head!" Dudley hissed, spattering the table top with chocolate.

"Adds character," Ana said loud enough for both to hear.

"Scar-head, scar-head, got it when his Mum and Dad were killed--!"

"_Shut up Dudley_!" Harry suddenly screamed, and twirled around to snarl at his cousin, his fists clenched at his sides. Ana took a startled step back.

"Whoa, whoa! Chill out!" she said to Harry. Then she pointed at Dudley. "Dudley, that was absolutely uncool of you."

Dudley didn't look the least bit sorry.

"I hate him," Harry whispered to himself, and Ana turned him back around with a gently hand on his shoulder to face her so she could get the last of his face clean.

Apparently, she'd heard him.

"There is one consolation," Ana whispered back, pulling a second plastic bag from her pocket and handing it Harry. "I saved the better candy for you."

"What's this?" Harry asked as he sat at the far end of the table from Dudley, who was looking seriously unimpressed that he had eaten all of his sweets while Harry had a fresh bag.

Ana pulled a red lollipop from the last bag in her pocket and popped it in her mouth with a relish.

"Fizzing Whizzbees," she said, "and I gave Dudley the--" she paused and mouthed the words 'cockroach clusters'.

"What are you saying?" Dudley whined as Harry's jaw dropped to the table top.

"Just saying that I gave you only the highest quality CCs I could find, Dudders." She winked at Harry, who was still shell-shocked.

"What is that you have?" Dudley pointed at her lollipop. "I want one."

"Trust me," Ana smirked, "You don't. This is an acquired taste."

"I want one!" Dudley insisted and Ana shrugged, made a 'your funeral' face, and handed him one. Dudley tore off the wrapper, popped it in his mouth, then made a face and spat it out. "Ew! Tastes like copper!"

Ana only winked at Harry. "Something like that."


	3. Conclutions, The Jumping To

Part Three: "Conclusions, Jumping to"

* * *

"She's a Witch," Harry said. Sirius, sitting on the end of his bed, nodded. "She has to be. Only, I don't think Dumbledore sent her, because I think she was surprised to see my scar."

Sirius reached across his godson's body to snag one of the Fizzing Wizzbees off his night-desk.

"Hey, those are mine!" Harry protested and whacked his Godfather's arm lightly as he pulled it back.

"Oh, like she's ever gonna give the dog candy," Sirius said and popped the sweet in his mouth. He closed his eyes and for a second relished the bubbly taste - it had been a long, long time since he'd had a Fizzing Wizzbee. Then he opened his eyes and growled low in his chest. "Gah - the dog. Harry, I'm her _pet_."

Harry shrugged. "At least you've got a warm bed and a roof over your head, and you'll have regular meals."

"I'm just lucky I got that sandwich today! I _hate_ dog food," he made a face, "and I _hate_ having to pretend I'm just some dumb mutt."

"Well..." Harry started desperately grasping at reasons why it was advantageous to stay with Ms. Olwyn. "Well, at least she's nice! And pretty!"

"Pretty?" Sirius echoed, one eyebrow upraised as he appraised his godson. "She's _pretty_."

Harry snapped his mouth shut.

"No," Sirius pressed, and for the first time since he had returned, Harry watched a genuine smile light up Sirius' features. It made him feel a lot better, at least, and only slightly less guilty for not telling the rest of his friends and the Order that Sirius was back and indeed alive. He could tell a little white lie in his once-every-three-days letters. This way Sirius and he would get some real time together at last. "No, don't clam up. James used to do the same damn thing - and don't make that _face_ either, I _invented_ that face. What do you mean, you think Ana's _pretty_?"

Harry shrugged. "She's just... pretty, that's all. She looks _nice_. And she is nice. It doesn't mean I _like_ her."

"Yeah," Sirius rubbed the back of his hand under his nose, "nice 'n weird - her house is filled with strange smells."

"She did just move in," Harry offered.

"True, but still..." Sirius shrugged, "ah, who cares - I'm just gonna head back to Grimmauld place with you at the end of the summer, anyway. I can live with being her doggie for a few more weeks. I'll pretend it's a vacation. Hm. I wonder if she wanders around in her towel after her shower...?" he mused absently and Harry looked horrified.

"Sirius!"

Sirius laughed, and this time his laughter didn't sound so hollow and forced. "I'm just pulling your leg."

Harry joined in his laugher. When both had sobered up, he said, "So what now? I bet she's recognized me. D'ya think she'll tell the 'Daily Prophet'?"

Sirius shrugged. "It's possible, but from what you told me about her, she seems to be pretty willing to stay off the front page herself."

The thought was unsettling to Harry. He pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose. "You don't think she's a Death Eater, do you?"

Sirius shook his head - "Naw, the Wizzbees weren't poisoned, if that's what you're thinking. No tattoo on her arm, either. But I think she's... maybe something else. Maybe there's some other reason she doesn't want to be seen or found. Didn't you say she seemed annoyed that she was being spied on by your Aunt?"

"Yeah, but Aunt Petunia annoys everyone."

Sirius nodded. "I can't think of anything else strange. Maybe she's just a Witch who prefers to live as a Muggle. Muggle-born, maybe. Wonder if she went to Hogwarts..."

Harry shook his head. "We could just ask, you know. Or, I guess I could - bet she still thinks you're an escaped mass murderer."

Sirius grimaced and scratched the side of his head. "Oh. Yeah. That. Damn."

"I've trying to think of a way to prove you're innocent, too... but I can't think of anything short of catching Pettigrew and forcing him in front of Fudge with a Veritatus curse on him." Harry looked down at his ratty bedcovers, his fingers twisting in the folds of the fabric. "Not that Fudge would listen. Wormtail could just…" Sirius watched silently as his hands balled into fists. "I hate him," Harry hissed.

" 'Hate' is a pretty strong word," Sirius said softly.

"I _hat_e him," Harry said again, as if to confirm the truth of the statement.

"Alright then," Sirius allowed, and said nothing else.

After all, he hated Pettigrew too - almost as much as he hated himself.

The Potters were dead and it was his fault.

A knock at the door startled them both out of their dark thoughts as Ana's voice called out, "Harry? I'm going to take you and Diddy-Duddy-kins out to rent a video and pick up a pizza or two. Sound do-able?"

Harry's eyes lit up - he'd never been allowed to pick out the video before. He swung his gaze to Sirius.

"Go on," his Godfather said, his voice a whisper, and then changed back into a dog and trotted out the door after them.

He had no idea what a 'video' was, but Harry seemed excited. Besides, he'd always wanted to stick his head out of a moving car's window.

* * *

Dudley pouted the mightiest pout to ever pout.

_Harry_ had been allowed to pick out a video. _What_ sort of justice was that? And above that, he had chosen a sissy one - "Alice Through the Looking Glass". Of course, Miss Oldwyn had let him rent "Killer Monster Alien Clowns from Andromeda 9Z", but what was the point if he'd have to put up with Harry enjoying something else after?

"Why the long face, Diddy-Duddy-kins?" Ana asked over her shoulder. Dudley had insisted on sitting in the front seat of her low-slung purple sports car, which had suited Harry just fine as he had wanted to ride in the back with that big ugly monster of a dog.

"Don't call me that," Dudley snarled, shooting a hateful glare into the backseat. He felt sick to his stomach from eating all the chocolates, like there were a thousand bugs crawling around inside him, but he wasn't going to admit it. Also, he was peeved that the dog liked Harry and not him. He hated the dog, but the dog should automatically like Dudley better. The dog made Harry _smile_ and Dudley _hated_ seeing Harry smile.

"Right," Miss Oldwyn called over the roar of the wind. She had put down all the windows immediately upon entering the car, and Dudley preferred the A/C. Her dog, however, had its head stuck out the side window, tongue lolling backwards and ears pricked forwards.

It was, in his opinion, the ugliest dog he'd ever seen.

It didn't even seem to be a pure breed of any sort. His Aunt Marge would be horrified.

They pulled into the driveway of number three and Harry and the dog leapt out and raced across the road to number four. Dudley felt mildly satisfied knowing they would have to wait for him to arrive, as he held the keys to the house and had refused to give them up to Harry. He trundled along at what he thought was a more dignified pace and didn't really pay much attention to Miss Oldwyn as she unfolded her spotted umbrella and followed him - she was a freak and that's all there was to it, so it didn't really matter if she used an umbrella in clear weather.

She was the sort Dudley had been taught to hate and avoid, but his parents really hadn't had any other choice when it came to the absence of Miss Figg. And she had been gone for a long time.

When Dudley let them all into number four he insisted on watching _his_ video first and Harry shrugged and just asked if he and the Dog - _Serious, _what a stupid name for a pet- could go eat their pizza in the backyard. Miss Oldwyn let them and then retreated herself into the kitchen to find plates and napkins. She herself ate nothing and drank only from an opaque water bottle she had brought across the street with her and sucked on yet another one of those revolting lollipops.

Dudley was furious.

His mother would have _made_ Harry watch the video Dudley picked out. Instead, Harry was sitting under a tree in the yard with his back to the window, eating pizza and just talking to the stupid ugly dog. The dog was eating pizza, too.

Unable to torture Harry with the killer alien clowns, Dudley threw a fit and confined himself to his room where he could blow up killer alien clowns on his laptop instead. He cranked the volume to drown out the sounds of Harry and Miss Olwyn's laughter at "Alice."

* * *

Somewhere around eleven at night, Vernon and Petunia Dursley came home to find Harry and a mongrel asleep on the chesterfield and Miss Oldwyn flipping through the pages of a book not written in English.

Petunia rushed upstairs to make sure her Diddy-kins was all right and found him chatting online with some girls and making up horrid lies about being the CEO of his own drill-bit company. Vernon shouted until he was literally purple in the face that under no circumstances were any animals allowed in his house and that he refused to pay Ana for her services because she had blatantly broken this rule.

Nobody mentioned Aunt Marge and Ripper.

On the top landing Dudley gloated, until he heard Ana say that she hadn't really expected to be paid anyway, and good night. She tucked the book under her harm, called the dog, and it followed her to the door. On the step she paused to say that she didn't even really mind that they were several hours later than they'd promised they'd be, and isn't it good that they had chosen not to pay her as she would have charged them overtime, and don't worry about the late hour, she was a sort of nighthawk anyway.

Dudley was mortified at her rudeness, until his mortification was overcome with glee at hearing Harry get yelled at.

Harry, however, when he climbed the stairs to the second floor to go to bed, wore not his usual downcast look of shame, but a smile.

"What are you smiling about, Scar-head?"

"She's a nighthawk," Harry replied, grinning at his cousin as he flattened himself to the wall to squeeze past him. "Good night, Diddy-Duddy-kins."

He slipped into his room and locked the door behind him before Dudley had a chance to lunge at him in rage.

* * *

When Ana and Sirius returned to her house, Sirius padded over to the pile of towels and blankets that made up his bed and sat down, nose under his paws. He watched as Ana moved around the room, setting the book down, unpacking a large silver-and black thing, and plugging wires into walls.

Sirius was unbelievably angry with the Dursleys.

If Harry was hurt or upset tomorrow (he fully planned on seeing Harry every day) he would bite Vernon Dursley. Hard. Somewhere where it would hurt a lot.

Sirius followed Ana's movement with grey eyes and huffed out a sigh.

She removed her zippered hoodie and kicked off her boots and socks, grabbed another mug of the stuff in the jug in the fridge, and sat down on the couch. She and Harry had vacuumed and moved the Tabasco-red thing into the front living room that afternoon.

Sirius couldn't help but be notice that Harry was right - Ana _was_ pretty.

Although she was very attractive when she was all done up in her boots and fun punky shirts, Sirius decided he liked her better like this, relaxed and comfortable and natural looking.

Sirius huffed to himself. There was no chance of anything happening while he was her _pet_. Besides, who was he kidding? Sirius knew that right now was probably the worst time ever to start thinking romantically about _anyone_. He also knew he was no prize himself. Wanted for murder, shaggy, too thin, and too exhausted, Sirius was not exactly star boyfriend material.

Ana curled into a corner of the couch with her mug and a smaller rectangular box. "Well, Sirius," she said to him, "here's to being a single looser." She finished the contents of her mug.

Sirius chuffed once at her.

"What, you don't think I'm looser? Heh. Well, tell that to every guy I've ever been with." She frowned. "Buncha self-righteous jerks, all of them. The problem with human men, you see, is that they're all bloody hypocrites. They say your darkest secret doesn't matter until they know what your darkest secret actually is."

Sirius cocked an ear, waiting for her to explain.

She shook her head and turned the smaller box around in her hands. "Okay, done depressing myself now." Ana lifted a small silver box and pointed it at the large silver box, which she had placed on a low table across the room from her. She pressed a button and suddenly sound and colour spewed forth from the big box. Sirius yelped and jumped to his feet. He growled at the noisy box, hackles rising.

"Relax, it's just the television," Ana said and Sirius bit off the gowl.

_Oh_, he thought. _Right - like the video at Harry's place. Only, that 'tell-a-vision' was on already when I came into the room. Dumb wizard._

Ana patted the empty spot beside her on the couch, and Sirius padded over and jumped up onto the bright rusty-coloured cushions. He shamelessly rested his head on her lap and stared at the TV, enjoying the proximity of their bodies and the faint feminine smell of Ana what was mixed with the paint and dust from her house.

Her body seemed oddly cool, and he snuggled closer. She must be cold.

She laughed and placed her free hand on his back, as she used the other to switch between channels. She stopped on a program about people who traveled through the stars in a giant metal ship, and started to run her hand down his spine. When she got to his tail she tugged it once, playfully, and Sirius raised an eyebrow at her.

She giggled and moved her hand back to his head and stroked down his back again. She did not tug his tail this time.

_Ooooh_, Sirius groaned to himself. _Now I see why dogs like getting pet. Mmmmm._

When she tried to stop, he nudged her hand and she laughed, called him selfish, and kept going. "Silly Sirius," she breathed, scratching behind his ear. "Hmmm... why the hell is your name so familiar?"

* * *

Sometime around two in the morning, Sirius fell asleep. He woke up at dawn, the sun coming in the large bay window, trying to bake him.

Ana was missing - in her own bed, he assumed - and he closed his eyes again.

Sleeping in the patch of sun was extremely relaxing. And there were no shadows of bars.

Thus it began that Harry spent the rest of his week either outside, sitting beside the hedgerow in the back garden (which Vernon Dursley thought was very weird but not so weird, all things considered, and it kept him out from underfoot) or in the home of Anathema Oldwyn (who seemed more than a little weird herself).

All in all, it was a far less 'weird-filled' summer than the past five that the Dursleys had experienced. It almost made Vernon wonder what the catch was. Peace and quiet inevitably shattered around their ankles - and wasn't it about time for that freaky little red-haired mate of Harry's (Weasel something?) to start begging for Harry to come and spend the rest of the summer with his giant, obnoxious, ignorant family?

From what Petunia could deduce through Harry's mumbling and the consistently drawn blinds at number three Privet Drive, Miss Oldwyn had finished painting her house and was starting to set up her furniture and odds and ends. Harry mentioned a lot of objects that seemed to have been collected from places all over the world, and Vernon wondered if maybe she was some sort of international thief.

The purple sports car, he was forced to admit, purred like a kitten when Ana Oldwyn drove it, and made next to no racket after all. She still had that mangey mutt, though, and he seemed to get fatter and happier and healthier by the day. The dog's fur was no longer patchy or straggly, and had become very shiny. She obviously took great care in grooming him.

It was the strangest dog Vernon had ever seen - she talked to it as if it was an understanding being, and it obeyed her every command without her ever needing to bribe it or hit it or even whistle for it. Of course, the horrid thing seemed to have taken a liking to Harry, and followed his nephew around like a great menacing shadow whenever the boy was outside.

Dudley had demanded, and more than once, that Vernon make the dog go away so that it would stop growling at him every time he and his friends tried to play a 'game' with Harry. Vernon'd had words with Miss Olwyn, but she had only told him to buzz off - she didn't own the dog, it was only her roommate, and it would do whatever it damn well pleased, thankyouverymuch.

* * *

Harry sat in the back yard on a lazy, sunny, Sunday afternoon and stared up at the clouds that cast funny patterns on his upturned face. "Do'ya reckon she's a Veela, then?"

He and Sirius had been bantering back and forth like this for days now, and neither had really come to a solid conclusion about the roots or origins of the strange Ana Oldwyn.

"Not blonde enough," came Sirius' reply from inside the bushes. He was huddled under the foliage in his human form so he would remain unseen by the spying Dursleys. He was wearing a pair of Dudley's old pants and one of Harry's old sweaters. They had thrown his filthy robes into a bin three blocks over.

"Her hair is dyed."

"Not sexy enough then, although last night she ran out of fresh soap in the shower and she--"

"I don't want to hear it!"

They laughed and Harry felt his heart leap. This is what he'd always wanted. Sirius, here, alive, warm, safe, and putting him on.

"She's always sipping from a flask or a bottle I can't see into," Harry scratched the side of his nose. "Maybe it's a polyjuice potion."

"And who is she really, then?" Sirius chortled. "Snape? Nu-uh. You-Know-Who? He wouldn't dare degrade himself. I can't think of anyone who isn't male who'd want to move in to be closer to you... 'cept maybe Umbridge or Bella, but I'd be able to tell. This doggie's nose knows what they smell like. Ana smells female enough - and not enough like them. Polyjuice potion can't change a person's smell. And she has a com-pyu-ter. I don't know any Wizard who can use a com-pyu-ter."

"Then we're back to Vampire?" Sirius suggested and Harry hummed thoughtfully to himself.

"The pieces all fit, except..."

"Except that she does _everything_ the Muggle way. And she's never said anything about being the Boy-Who-Lived to you?"

"Never." Harry rubbed his scar absently. It hadn't been paining him in a while, which was at once a relief and a worry. It meant that Voldemort wasn't plotting anything that directly involved Harry just now, but it also meant that he was probably plotting for later. Harry had also been keeping up on his occulemency lessons – after the disaster with the Department of Mysteries, even Harry's dislike of Snape was going to keep him from practicing. "I'm half tempted to just ask her if she's ever heard of Harry Potter."

"It's a thought."

There was a pause.

"Did she really come out of the bathroom with nothing but a--"

"Uh-huh."

Another pause.

Harry sighed again. "Damn."

"You're swearing?" Sirius chuckled. "I'm her damned _dog_."

* * *

That night, Harry sent Hedwig over to Ana's with a message to Sirius: 'Unlock the front door at 12 pm, I'm coming in with the Invisibility cloak.'

Ana, thankfully, had left the house. The place was empty. Not-thankfully, it was without telling her 'roommate' where she was heading for the night. Sirius had no way of knowing just when she'd be back. He let Harry in at exactly midnight and together they started prying though the unpacked boxes that Ana had stashed in the spare room that she had on the second floor.

Sirius, of course, had sniffed around on his own, prying every now and again, but without Harry's wand at hand, he didn't feel comfortable or safe getting into all of it.

Sirius had taken to sleeping by the living room windows on a doggy-sized cushion Ana had found in the crawlspace, so he and Harry could send Hedwig back and forth with messages.

They started with some of the lighter boxes, which contained some magazines, winter clothing, and various other small appliances and Muggle convince items such as hair dryers and toaster that had never been opened. They were about to give up when Sirius poked his nose into a large trunk in the very far corner of the room.

Inside it was the jackpot they had been searching for - a thin grimoire, Newt Scamander's 'Guide to Fantastical Beasts and Where to Find Them', a small student's potions kit that looked as if it'd never been used, an invitation letter to a private academy in the north of Scotland and several more letters requesting an answer to their invitation, as well as three that were still sealed. All the paper was yellowed and brittle with age, the ink that had obviously once been a thick red had faded to a dull brown.

There were also several sets of moth-bally smelling robes, one very very formal and stiff set of dark purple dress robes, and a hand-woven linen blouse that looked like it had been torn around the shoulders and spattered with blood at one point very long ago.

Several other odds and ends littered the trunk - a hat, a small dagger, some herbs, an old wedding band, a book of poems, and other nicknacks that were less of a Wizarding variety and more of the just plain 'old' variety.

What caught Harry's eye was the only shiny and new-looking item in the chest. It was a small silver key on a worn leather strap.

"What do you think this all means?" Harry asked softly.

"I don't know," Sirius admitted. "She knows about the Wizarding world but... she doesn't seem so deep in it... where do you think the key is for?"

"Have you ever seen a box or something that had a key hole in it?"

Sirius wracked his brain, and then slammed his fist into his palm. "Ah! The coldbox!"

"The coldbox?" Harry repeated, climbing to his feet to follow Sirius as he bounded out of the room and down the hall on four legs. He caught up to his Godfather in the kitchen. "Ah, you mean the fridge!"

Sirius changed back and yanked open the freezer door. "Yeah, same thing. Look, here. I was hungry the other night and went prying to something to eat - I opened the snow part and found this." Harry peered over his shoulder at the wide, flat wooden bowl that sat, alone, in the freezer. "I thought she was just making a bowl of ice but now..." Sirius carefully pulled the bowl out of the freezer and set it down on the kitchen table.

It had an iron lid clamped over the top of it, and in the middle a shiny silver lock.

"D'you think we should?" Harry asked tentatively, holding up the key in one hand and his wand in the other.

"Give me your wand," Sirius said, "we'll never know till we try, right? This way I can do something and you won't get kicked out for underaged magic."

Feeling like he was breaking a million rules and hearing Hermione saying as much to him in his head, Harry slipped the key into the lock and turned it. The iron cover clicked, then dissolved, leaving an astonished Harry holding the naked key and looking down into the shimmering mercurial liquid in the bowl.

"What is it?" Sirius asked, peering over his shoulder.

Harry said softly, "It's a Pensieve."

Sirius gasped. "A Pensieve. Maybe we should just ... no... it'd be dangerous not to know, right? The Order should know who she is, especially if she's living so close to you. I'll look, Harry."

"No," Harry said. "I need you to keep an eye out with my wand. _I'll_ look." Before Sirius could protest, he put his face in the water.

Sirius shifted his eyes around the room, feeling oddly vulnerable with Harry's wand in his hand and Harry himself so incapacitated. Harry was standing stock-still and for a second, until he saw the rise and fall of Harry's chest, Sirius feared him dead or hurt.

Sirius moved to stand beside Harry, his eyes on the entrance to the kitchen, the wand pointed at the bowl, just in case.

How it was that Ana had gotten behind him, Sirius would never figure out.

He yelped in surprise as he felt her strong, cold hand slam down on his wrist and knock the wand out of his hand. She kicked him hard in the back of the knee and Sirius went down, his forehead cracking against the side of the table. Harry did not react.

The back of Sirius' head slammed against the linoleum floor and for a moment, stars went super nova behind his eyelids.

Once the ballet of lights had ceased, Sirius opened his eyes blearily to stare up at Ana, straddling him with a wicked looking steak knife poised at his throat and a snarl on her lips. He flicked his eyes over to the cutlery drawer, and it was hanging open. How had he not _heard_ it?

"I recognize you," she said softly, and Sirius had never heard such a grave and deadly tone in anyone's voice before. His heart began to thump wildly against his chest. His cast his eyes up to the table where Harry had been - he was now slumped against the far wall, his fringe and face damp from the liquid in the Pensieve and a dazed expression on his face. It looked as if he had been hauled away from the Pensieve and hurled at the wall.

"I recognize you," Ana hissed again, turning the knife slightly. The faint silverish glow from the Pensieve leapt along the blade. "You're that Black guy ...something or other Black - the one who escaped from Azkaban. The one who's trying to kill Harry."

"No, please, you don't understand--" Sirius began but was cut off by a sharp slap to the face.

"I understand well enough," he heard Ana's voice, but she sounded ... different than normal... colder.

"Please," Sirius began again and again a sharp slap to the face was what he received for his words. He felt the knife press against his skin, slicing the shallowest of cuts into the flesh under his chin, and the hot beading of blood that trailed down into the hollow of his throat.

"I won't let you hurt Harry. The second I realized who he was I knew I could never let anyone hurt him. Even if it's not my job to protect him - someone has to, with psychos like you running around."

He followed the knife with his wide eyes as she lifted it to her mouth and lapped away the crimson that stained its blade.

"So you are a Vampire," he breathed.

Ana's only answer was a glare that made his skin crawl, and a slow infection of colour in her eyes. The vibrant blue, the pupils, the whites, all of it changed as tendrils of red fog slipped across her eye - leaving her stare unsettling and entirely scarlet.

She smiled, and in the shimmering, tenuous glow of the Pensieve, her elongated eyeteeth shone.


	4. Pensieve

Part Four: "Pensieve"

* * *

The first thing Harry noticed was that the liquid was freezing. It had, of course, been alone in the freezer, he realized belatedly. He wondered why she had kept it there.

Unless she had never planned to use it... he started to worry about how terrible these memories must be, for Ana to keep them under lock and key and hidden in the freezer. He didn't have much time for musing, however, as he suddenly he found himself standing, alone, in a moonlit glade.

He looked around him for the person whose memories these must be and saw that he was standing just a little behind a young woman with long hair. He couldn't see her face from this angle but could tell that she was dressed in a very simple white linen shift. The glade was slightly cool and Harry felt his skin goosebump. He wondered if the young woman was cold.

Walking around her to look at her face, he realized that he recognized her, but he didn't know where from. She, too, was looking up at the moon, and appeared as if she had been for a while. Uninterested in the moon, Harry instead decided to take in the surroundings. The wood around them was thick with all kinds of foliage, the leaves mostly tinged with a light edging that signalled the coming of autumn.

As far as Harry could tell, there were no other people nearby. There were no homes within view, no torchlight through the trees, no other sounds besides the wind in the leaves and the soft breaths of the young woman. Off to one side Harry caught a faint burbling which he assumed was a brook or small river.

In the middle-distance he could see mountains.

Taking a deep breath, Harry turned back to the other figure. "You're waiting for something, aren't you?" he asked her, even though he knew that here in the Pensieve she wouldn't be able to hear or respond to him. It's just that the silence was getting to him, making him antsy. "I wonder what it is."

As if in response to his questioning, the light breeze suddenly died. Far in the distance a bird cried, eerie and thin in the dead of night. The young woman's eyes grew wide and she whipped around to stare directly at Harry. He wished the Pensieve wasn't in grey-scale so he could figure out what colour her eyes were. It may help him figure out where he knew her from.

"Why are you looking at me?" Harry asked. She couldn't _see_ him, could she? That wasn't the way a Pensieve was supposed to work. A look of terror blossomed on her face, and Harry felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

"So you're the one?" a deep, mellifluous voice whispered, just over Harry's shoulder, and he whipped around and stumbled a few steps to the side to get out from between them. He hadn't even heard the footsteps of this other person approaching!

"I --I ..." the young woman stuttered, her hands coming up to wrap around her upper arms. She did look like she was freezing. Her eyes darted around wildly, as if searching for somewhere to escape to. Harry looked back at the man.

He was standing half in the shadows, his weight resting over one hip and his arms crossed over his chest. He was at least a head taller than Harry and very strongly built, with tumbled and loose curls in his black hair that brushed the bottom of his ears. He was clothed entirely in black, so that it appeared as if he was wrapped in shadow. "Not very articulate, are you?" the man said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "Did they send me another simple one?"

The young lady pulled herself upright, the terror replaced by timid determination. "I am not simple," she said. Her voice also nagged at Harry's memory.

Black eyes narrowed. "Ah, then they have given me the shrew."

She seemed to want to retort to that, but held it in. The man detached himself from the darkness and came forward, his form mostly obscured by a thick, dark cloak. It was held closed by a flashing silver serpentine pin. Slytherin? No, it was a winged dragon.

Harry thought that it was sort of rude of the man not to offer his cloak to her, as it was obvious she was freezing. By the look on his face, however, it seemed as if being cold was going to be the least of the girl's worries.

The man walked right past Harry and placed two fingers under the young woman's chin, lifting her face to his. "At least this time the one they sent me isn't ugly."

"Why do you mock me?" she spat, and Harry watched as her eyes began to fill with tears, which she refused to let fall.

One black eyebrow rose. The man was _amused_.

"Why do you mock me?" she asked again.

He closed the small distance between them, pulling her against his chest, and raised an elegant, long fingered hand to her cheek. He brushed it tenderly. The girl tensed her entire body, doing her best to keep a sliver of air between them. She closed her eyes and let him touch her face and hair, although she looked like she'd rather be anywhere else at the moment.

The second hand came up and twined in the hair at the base of her skull. He tilted her head to the side at a sharp angle and licked his lips. Harry suddenly knew what the man was.

"You smell like food," he whispered. He lowered his head to the place where her collarbone rose in sharp contrast against her skin. She was panting heavily, eyes closed. It must have been painful for her neck to be twisted at such an unforgiving angle. Her legs shook from the strain of keeping herself rigid, and it appeared as if she was about to fall over. The Vampire slipped the hand on her cheek down so his knuckles brushed over her breasts and down to her hip, then to the small of her back, holding her upright. "Tell me, my dear... what do you expect from me?"

Harry watched in horror as she closed eyes. Her hands come up to push on the Vampire's chest just a little, as if to shove him away. Then she stopped, trembled once, and dropped her hands to the side.

"I expect that you will take my soul and protect my village."

He pulled back his head, his grip loosening slightly, his black eyes widening in delight. "Take your soul!" he crowed, "Is that what they're calling it?"

The young woman looked away nervously, swallowed heavily, then looked back at his face.

"What I'll do to you, little girl, will be far worse." The man took a deep breath and levelled a smoldering gaze on her. Harry knew immediately what was in his head, but the young woman seemed oblivious.

"But you'll... you'll protect the village?"

He shrugged elegantly, eyes narrowing. "If you're worth it." He tangled his fingers in her hair and dragged her forward, the other hand capturing both her wrists, and bent to sink his teeth into her lower lip.

She squirmed, trying to break his grip, but was unsuccessful. "Thahus!" she hissed.

_That hurts!_

The Vampire pulled back, licking his own lips. She kicked at his ankle and he hissed in anger. He didn't move. The kick hadn't hurt him at all.

"Behave! Or I won't take you." He sealed his mouth against hers and Harry could just make out the flash of tongue passing between their lips. She made a mewling sound in the back of her throat, eyes wide and terrified.

A thin line of some dark liquid slipped down her chin and along her neck. The Vampire pulled away to chase the escaping droplet of blood, laving her skin with his tongue. She turned her head to the side and sucked in a gurgling mouthful of air, gagging wetly.

"Do you want your precious village safe or not? You take so much for granted- your _soul_ doesn't matter to me, little girl."

"I was told nothing of you taking advantage of me!"

He barked out a short laugh. "Why the Hell would I need your _soul_? You have something far more useful to me."

"No!"

He shrugged again, releasing her. She stumbled, but managed to catch herself. "Then your family and all the people of your village die. The winter is coming. It is simple enough to allow the brigands on the roads to raid your storehouses. They'll all starve to death."

The girl covered her eyes with her hands, and sucked in a deep breath. She turned her head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood. He must have bit her tongue.

Harry felt like he was going to be sick.

He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. He _had_ to know.

The girl lowered her hands and took a tentative step towards the Vampire, and reached up to awkwardly place her hands on his shoulders. She raised herself up onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his. It was very obviously her first kiss, and a badly done one at that.

"That's much better," the Vampire murmured against her lips, "but not quite enough."

The man slid his fingers down her throat, skimming the collar of her shift. She shivered beneath his touch, but did not pull away. With a movement too quick for Harry to see, the glade was filled with the sound of tearing fabric.

"No!" the young woman gasped, and tried to back away, one hand coming up to hold her dress closed, the other attempting to push the man away.

Harry knew what was coming next, and averted his eyes. He wished Sirius would pull him out of the Pensieve now. He didn't want to see this. He turned his back and clapped his hands over his ears and screwed his eyes shut. Somehow he could still hear the muffled cries and scuffling sounds. A sharp scream filled the air, and against his better judgement, Harry looked.

The young woman was being held firmly against the man's chest, one of his hands tangled painfully in her hair, keeping her head pulled at a sharp angle to the side. His other arm was hooked under one of her knees, keeping her leg up and wrapped around his hip, his hand hidden underneath the pooling folds of her dress. Dark liquid that Harry assumed was blood streamed along her neck and down between her breasts - the man's mouth was clamped firmly under her ear, and his lips were stained.

The man pulled back and tossed her down onto the forest floor. His chin and lips were stained with blood, as was the hand that had been hidden under her leg. The young woman groaned and whimpered in pain, rolling onto her side and into a foetal position.

"Your soul," the man snarled again, his laughter sharp and cruel. "I have absolutely no use for your soul. I just want your blood for tonight, shrew." He paused and Harry watched as he licked the blood off his lips and fingers. "Although, I have to admit that your reaction to me is the most interesting a Muggle has ever had in... centuries at least. Most of the time they just lay back and go glassy-eyed."

The young woman whimpered again and Harry could see her body shuddering as she sucked in air desperately. Here eyelids were twitching madly, her whole body starting to shake out of either cold, or fear, or shock. Maybe all three.

"Let us see if that soul you so fear for is worth taking after all," he said, seeming to come to a decision. He knelt beside the shuddering body before him and lifted her upright by her hair. She let out a weak mewl of pain. "I'll let you keep your soul... for now. But I will see if I can steal it from you later... or shatter it, at least." He pressed his mouth to the gaping wound on her throat and suckled until her feeble thrashing attempts to escape ceased. Her head lolled back, her eyes closing slowly. "Yes, this will be entertaining for the next decade or so."

He threw back his head and slashed at his own neck with his fingernails. Blood, thick and oozing, spilled onto her upturned face and he lifted her body until her lips were pressed to his own wound.

"Ana..." Harry whispered, feeling his body growing shaky with horror. "Ana, this is how it happened?"

Harry's world suddenly exploded into pain as the back of his head cracked against something hard. He had barely even registered the granite grip on his shoulder that had wrenched him away from the Pensieve.

Slowly the world came back to him as he felt his body sliding down the wall to crumple on the floor, and in the distance he could hear Sirius voice saying, "No, please, you don't understand..." Harry struggled to open his eyes, to lift himself to his knees, but he was too dizzy, his head hurt too much. And his mind was still buzzing with memories of... of _that_...

The sharp sound of flesh striking flesh rang out and Harry struggled against the blackness that threatened to overwhelm him.

"I recognize you," he heard Ana's voice hiss, but she sounded ... different... colder. "I recognize you," Ana hissed again, "You're that Black guy, Something or other Black- the one who escaped from Azkaban. The one who's trying to kill Harry."

"No, please, you don't understand--" Sirius began but was cut off by another sharp slapping sound.

"I understand well enough."

"Please..!"

"I won't let you hurt Harry. The second I realized who he was I knew I could never let anyone hurt him. Even if it's not my job to protect him - someone has to, with psychos like you running around."

"Please," Sirius said again, this time sounding more desperate. There was a pause and Harry was screaming internally - '_No, no! Don't take him away from me again!'_ Then he heard Sirius' sharp intake of breath and, "So you are a Vampire."

Finally, Harry broke through the darkness, and sat up, and screamed - "Don't hurt Sirius!" His eyes scanned the shadows of the kitchen wildly, latching onto a huddled mass of darkness by the table that had to be Ana and Sirius. "Don't hurt him!" Harry screamed again.

Part of the mass of shadow detached itself from the rest and Harry realized it was Ana's head. She turned to him and Harry choked back a strange moaning scream as he realized that her eyes were no longer the vibrant laughing blue he was used to, but a thick fiery red that blotted out her whites and pupils.

In the soft crimson glow that radiated from her gaze, mingled with the silver from the Pensieve, Harry watched as she lifted one eyebrow and part her lips. He swallowed another choking sound of terror as he realized that her eyeteeth had extended into fangs, which were dripping with gore.

"What?" she hissed, and Harry ignored the pain in the back of his head to pull himself to his feet.

He had faced down werewolves on full moon nights and dark Wizards in graveyards - he could beat back one Vampire if he had to. His wand. Where was his wand? His eyes stabbed around in the darkness by Sirius' feet _(oh god please let him be alive)_ and found it half lying under his Godfather's unmoving thigh.

"Don't hurt Sirius," Harry said again, the steadiness of his voice belaying the squirming terror in his stomach. "I won't let you."

"Sirius?" Ana repeated and pulled a little of her weight off of the body pinned beneath her. She sat up on her knees, straddling Sirius' stomach, and kept one hand on his shoulder. "Harry, this isn't the dog--"

"Yes it is," Harry interrupted. "That's Sirius Black."

"Sirius!" Ana's red eyes grew wide. "_That's_ where I knew the name! I can't believe you made me name the dog _that_ of all things, Harry!"

Harry forced himself to take an unsteady step forward. "Please, Ana, Sirius isn't here to hurt me..."

"That, I don't believe, Harry," she said, gaze returning to Sirius bleeding throat. "He was trying to drown you."

"Drown me?" Harry clutched the side of the table to remain upright, his vision still slightly blurred and his head spinning from the knock against the wall.

Ana snarled and raised the knife in her hand, poising above Sirius' heart. Harry heard his Godfather groan with the movement and breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive at least - that was something. "He was holding you face-first into that basin of water."

"That's not water, it's a Pensieve." Harry took another step towards Ana, his hands out - if he could just get the knife from her…

"Pensieve. Right. I forgot. Can't drown in those." Ana said softly to herself. _"Stupid Muggle."_

"Ana, please don't hurt Sirius," Harry tried again, his voice low and tumultuous. "I know there's a warrant out on him, but he's never really hurt anyone."

Ana bared her fangs in a brief grimace. "I don't believe you. You must be under a spell of some sort."

"There is no spell that can make me lie about this!" Harry shouted suddenly and Ana blinked, taken aback. "_Sirius Black did not murder my parents_!"

There was a pause and the knife lowered only fractionally. A look of pity crossed the Vampire's face. "Harry," she said in a soothing voice, which just made Harry's annoyance grow, "This man was in Azkaban for twelve years for a reason."

Desperate, Harry threw himself at Ana. Her free arm came up, off Sirius' shoulder, and she braced his chest against her forearm as easily as if he'd merely fallen and not lunged at her. "I'm a Vampire, Harry," she said slowly, "You can't fight me."

"Don't hurt Sirius!"

Ana snarled and tossed him backwards again. Again Harry hit the wall, and again the sudden burst of blackness threatened to envelop him. He yelped as he slipped down the wall and landed hard on the linoleum floor.

"Nnnn..."

Ana looked down with narrowed crimson eyes at Sirius. He groaned again and twitched feebly, but his eyes didn't open. "As for you, Mr. Black," she snarled and drew her lips back over her teeth, "I'll finish what I started."

He slammed the knife down into his shoulder and he cried out, a horse and gravelly sound. She twisted once and the cry became a high-pitched scream of agony. With a hiss she withdrew the knife and tossed it away. It skidded and clattered along the tile floor, coming to a stop when it hit the wall beside Harry, leaving a macabre smear of red in its wake.

Ana wedged her fingers into the tear in his ragged sweater and yanked. The sound of ripping fabric filled the air. Against the wall, Harry was clawing upwards through muddled darkening visions. _Was he in the glade in the Pensieve? Or in Ana's kitchen? Whose shirt was ripping?_ He couldn't keep it clear in his head.

"Nnno!" Sirius moaned and struggled to open his eyes.

"No?" Ana smiled a wicked, sharp-toothed smile. "You tried to kill Harry, murderer. You killed the Potters. You killed a dozen innocent Muggles, from what I hear... and you're begging me not to? You sick, selfish, rat..." She lowered her lips to the wound and sucked.

Sirius screamed again at the burning, pulling sensation on the wound.

"Don't!" Sirius cried out, panting with the effort. One hand came up to try to push her away but only slipped against her upper arm ineffectually, no strength behind it. "Don't... hurt..."

Ana lifted her head and snarled. "Don't hurt you! You fucking _bastard_."

"Don't... hurt... Harry..."

Ana froze. A single drop of blood slipped from her slack lips and rolled down her chin, pausing for a second on the tip before shivering and falling onto Sirius' upturned face. It sat still on his cheek for a second before slipping to the side and vanishing into his hair. He blinked and opened his eyes. Perfect grey orbs bored into Ana's red gaze.

"Don't hurt Harry," he said again, his voice raw and torn.

Startled, Ana scrambled off his stomach, where she had been sitting to keep him pinned, and knelt beside him.

"Don't hurt Harry?" she echoed, aghast.

From the other side of the room there came a groan and Harry lifted his head. The hand closest to the discarded knife twitched.

Ana found her eyes trapped by the determination in Sirius'. "You... can't... Harry... mine..." he managed to gasp between the searing pain in his neck and the freezing drowsiness of blood loss.

"Yours?" Ana repeated. "Yours to kill, that it? Lord High-And-Mighty tell you that?"

Sirius' eyes closed momentarily and he looked pained. With a whine he shifted forms and suddenly Ana was staring at a large black mutt with striking grey eyes and a large gash in its ruff.

"The dog!" Ana cried out and pulled herself to her feet. "You're one of those friggin' Wizards who shapechanges! You _used_ me to get to Harry you _sonofabitch_! I'm gonna rip you a–aargh!"

She arched forward and roared as Harry slipped the knife between her shoulder blades. She turned and glared at him, bending her arm around behind her to try and grasp at the knife handle. It was too far up and the handle was slick with her own blood - her finger tips brushed against it, causing it to vibrate painfully and she screamed again, collapsing to her knees.

"I'm sorry," Harry said softly, towering over her. His eyes were chips of green ice. Very deliberately, he reached down and lifted his wand from the floor, then pointed it between Ana's eyes. "I won't let you hurt Sirius. He didn't kill those Muggles, and he didn't betray my parents. He's my Godfather and the only family I have left... I'm sorry." His mouth formed a thin line and he raised his wand above his head. _"Petrificus Totalus."_


	5. Bedside Manner

Part Five: "Bedside Manner "

* * *

"How do you feel?" Harry asked, his eyes lowered in guilt.

"Besides the literal knife in the back?" Ana smiled warmly at him. "I'm fine."

They were sitting on the edge of Ana's bed. Sirius was asleep in it.

"That's good. Kinda... _creepy._.. but good." Harry looked over the bed, to where Sirius was nestled beneath the sheets, pale as the pillowcase. The image of Sirius' chalky skin and brows knitted in pain disturbed him, made him feel uneasy, and he looked at his feet instead.

"Ana I..."

"You?"

"I'm sorry I pried."

"Pried?" she repeated, her now-blue eyes flicking to the rumpled pile of Invisibility Cloak at her feet. "And why did you pry, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Sirius and I noticed that you were... different. You had those Fizzing Wizzbees and you have a lunar scope on your bedside table. You have that flask you drink from all the time, too. A few other things fit and I thought you might be... you know... a spy for..."

"You-Know-Who?"

"Voldemort," Harry hissed, and was only mildly surprised to see that she didn't flinch at his name. "You see, right? I had to make sure."

"I see," was all she said. "And how do you know I'm not?"

"You wouldn't have tried to kill Sirius to protect me if you were."

"And if I were?"

"If you were, you would have just killed both of us." There was a long silence. Harry took a deep breath and screwed up his courage to say what he wanted next. "Ana, in the Pensieve I saw--"

"–I know what you saw. I don't remember exactly, but I know it's... unpleasant." Harry snapped his mouth shut and watched with wide eyes as she ran a hand through her hair. "They're my memories, after all. I put them there because I didn't want the nightmares any more. A Witch sold me the Pensive shortly after my turning because I had trouble staying asleep - if I could destroy the memory entirely, I would, but Pensieves can't break."

"So then what I saw, the person in the glade, that was--"

"–I got rid of the memories for a reason Harry." She levelled a glare on him. "I don't want to know."

Harry nodded and returned his focus to his feet. There was another long, awkward pause.

"So... Sirius didn't kill those Muggles?"

"No," Harry said, eager to tell the story. He believed the more people who knew, the more chance there was that someone would figure out a way to prove Sirius innocent. "It was Peter Pettigrew."

Ana wrinkled her nose, trying to cast her memory back. "Peter... that was the kid who died right? The one with the thumb?"

"_Without_ a thumb, actually," Harry grinned and Ana rolled her eyes. "Uh…Yeah, only he didn't die. _He_ was my parent's Secret-Keeper, not Sirius. They only made it seem like it would be him so Voldemort couldn't go after the real Secret-Keeper. Except..."

"Except?"

Harry reached out and blindly groped along the covers until he found Sirius' limp hand and grasped it tightly. "Except that Pettigrew was already a Death Eater."

"Death Eater... those were the minion guys with the masks, right?"

Harry looked up, incredulous. Here was a woman who obviously had been around during Voldemort's reign of terror, yet she didn't shudder at his name, nor did she know exactly was a Death Eater was. She knew him, and why he was famous, but didn't treat him like spun-sugar, like so many other adult Wizards and Witches did. More than that, she even called herself a ...

"Hey, wait a minute," Harry said suddenly, "back downstairs, you ... you called yourself a _Muggle_, didn't you?"

This time it was Ana's turn to avoid his gaze.

"You did."

"Yes," she nodded slowly. "I did. I wasn't a Witch when I was killed, Harry. I've never mastered magic, even now that I know about it."

"But, you're a Vampire."

"I'm a magical creature. Magical creatures are magic in themselves, and therefore are not like Witches and Wizards who have inherent magic, like you."

"But... you can learn, right?"

Ana growled, frustrated. Apparently this was a sore topic with her. "I don't see why I _should._ I'm _fine._ I _enjoy_ living like a Muggle - a Vampire is shunned in Wizarding society. For no reason whatsoever, we're _hunted_."

Harry sucked on his bottom lip, the guilt coming back full force. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know what you mean... one of my Dad's best mates is a Werewolf, so ... yeah, I know what you mean."

Ana sighed. "It's okay, Harry. Sorry – kind of a sticky point with me. You didn't know. You didn't mean it." She turned her eyes to Sirius. "We should do something. We can't bring him to a hospital, they'll arrest him, and if he just lays there, I kinda think he'll die."

"You could–"

"I won't."

Harry flinched at the forcefulness behind the words.

"You saw what happened in the Pensieve. I won't do that to anyone else. Living like this is hardly pleasant. It's _dangerous_."

Harry stood up slowly and tucked his wand into his back pocket out of habit, before he remembered Mad-Eye Moody's story about the Wizard who blew off his left buttock and tucked it behind his ear instead. "I'm going to owl my friend Hermione - she'll know what spells to do."

Ana sighed and nodded her head. "Alright then. I'll... sit here and be useless."

Harry flashed what he hoped was an encouraging smile and trotted out the door and down the stairs. Ana followed his progress across the street through her bedroom window. Halfway across the road, he abruptly vanished. Startled, she looked down at her feet to where the Invisibility Cloak ought to have been and found it gone. _Sneaky bugger_, she thought to herself. She hadn't even seen him pick it up.

Reaching out slowly to Sirius, she brushed her fingertips over the makeshift bandage Harry had made by shredding and wadding up one of her sheets. He had wrapped the frayed cotton strips around his throat and shoulder. Amazing that the boy had managed to drag his Godfather all the way upstairs to her bedroom, and still had enough energy to clean and bind his wound, then return downstairs and haul her up as well.

"Oh," she realized, a fraction of a second later. "He probably used a spell to get us all up here."

Once everyone was in the bedroom, Harry had nullified his petrifaction spell and pulled the knife from her back. Then he stood there, patiently, his thundering heart pounding in her ears, with his wand pointed between her eyes, and told her that he was not "under a spell. Sirius is my Godfather, and yes, he's an Animagus and he's been masquerading as your dog. But he's here to _protect_ me, not _hurt_ me."

She still couldn't believe that Sirius, her _dog_, was actually an escaped mass-murderer. Or rather, an innocent man _accused _of mass murder. Ana frowned slightly. Did she believe Harry's story? Harry certainly did, but what if Sirius was lying to him?

"Ha...arry..." a panting puff of sound escaped Sirius' paper-white lips and he tried to turn his head, whimpering when the ravaged flesh there burned in protest. His eyelids were still closed and his eyebrows drawn together in pain.

_Maybe I'll trust them for now,_ Ana decided. _Just for now._

Gently, she peeled back the binding that covered the gash she had torn in Sirius' neck in her rage. The wound was still glistening, the flesh around it raw and red from the sucking - it looked like a hickey that someone had bitten the middle out of. Tingeing the edge of the wound, tracing along the veins, was the tell-tale blackish blue of collapsed arteries, looking like grotesque black-veined marble.

He would never have feeling in the skin that returned.

If he lived long enough for the skin to regrow, that was.

"I'll get you a glass of water," she whispered to the man who was more corpse than alive at that point, and stood up from the edge of the bed, where she had been sitting. "You're probably very dehydrated. Although I wouldn't know, I've never only half killed anyone before."

She turned and left the room for the bathroom that was down the hall. Just as she steeped out the door, Sirius clamped one hand over the wound on his neck and, in the throes of a nightmare, screamed.

* * *

In the Ministry of Magic, the owl that was to be sent out to expel Harry Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for unauthorized use of underaged magic was cancelled by a discreet whisper in an ear.

Several long hours later, sometime around dawn, Harry returned with dark circles under his eyes, and a message from Hermione detailing the exact spell to be preformed on a Vampire victim. In the post-script she scrawled - "You better explain what's happened, Harry Potter, or I swear I'll sic Professor Lupin on you!"

Ana was confused until Harry explained that Professor Lupin was his dad's Werewolf friend.

Harry performed the spell, having broken into the cupboard under the stairs where his uncle had locked away his school things with a simple "_alohamora_", and immediately Sirius' colour began to come back. Harry checked the wounds and hummed to himself when he saw that they were closing up already.

Ana was slightly worried that the place on his neck where her fangs had actually pierced the skin shrank into two small black dots. She mentioned it to Harry and he consulted his note from Hermione - it didn't say anything about black dots, or marks of any kind for that matter.

Harry resolved to ask her about it once Hedwig had woken up and he could send another message. As it was, his owl had flown to London and back that night and was very tired. Ana would have offered to send her owl, if she had one. As Hermione was Muggle-born, Ana suggested they use a telephone, but Harry admitted that he had never asked Hermione for her number.

Ana was just about to go rooting through her phonebook for "Granger, Doctor" when Sirius groaned and sat up. Both rushed to his side and poured water down his throat and wrapped him in blankets until he was feeling coherent enough to ask, "What... hap... ened?"

Harry explained about the knife and Hermione's spell and Sirius smiled. "You are James' boy, you know that?"

Harry blushed, obviously pleased to be compared to his father.

Then Sirius turned his attention to Ana - "Sorry I... dog... tricked you..." he coughed, hacking up some blood that had evidently gotten into his lungs when she had pierced his shoulder. Harry frowned and promised to ask Hermione about a healing spell as well, to help with the knife wound.

"Sorry I stabbed you," Ana replied, helping him to lay back against the pillow. She made sure he was comfortable, then poked him in the forehead with her index finger. "But now that I know who you are, you're not allowed to sit outside of my bathroom when I'm in the shower anymore."

Sirius pouted and Harry erupted into the most welcome bout of heart-lightening laughter he had known in a long time.

* * *

"So where were the letters in the trunk from?" Sirius asked between mouthfuls of soup. "The name of the academy was familiar, but I can't recall where from."

Ana sighed and lowered the spoon she had been holding to his lips, resting it back on the side of the bowl. He wasn't yet strong enough to eat on his own, and so she, feeling guilty for being the cause of his weakness, had been doing everything she could to make sure he was healing as quickly as possible.

Sirius was just happy to be able to stay in his human form for longer than a couple hours at a time. And no more crouching under thorny rosebushes either.

Harry had indeed mailed Hermione as soon as Hedwig had woken up, and his friend had responded with the spells required. That had been almost a week ago, and Ana had been nursing Sirius since then. Harry had not told Hermione who had been injured, just that it was someone they both knew and meant a lot to them and that he'd explain more at 'home' before start of term.

Ana had inquired what he had meant by 'home' but he just shook his head. "It's somewhere I go before school starts, usually for a few weeks - a mate's place." He and Sirius had exchanged a look and she had decided to drop it.

Hermione, too, had been worried about the black dots and had promised to look into them, but had speculated that they were probably just the mark of a Vampire's victim and hoped that they would fade soon. She had promised to ask Professor Lupin about it.

Ana had bitten Sirius just low enough that he could probably get away with wearing turtlenecks if he needed to hide them. He had offered to wear a dog collar for her instead and she had swatted his arm. Ana had a feeling that if he had his full strength he probably would have been quite the romantic threat.

He certainly was tenacious, if nothing else.

"I still can't believe you guys rifled through my trunk."

"We had to make sure you weren't a Death Eater and you're avoiding the question." Sirius smirked at her from under his bangs. She had carried him to the tub when he had felt up to it two days earlier, given him a good scrub, then a much needed haircut. Instead of having long, scraggly, filthy hair half-way down his back, it now fell just mid-way down his shoulder-blades, with a softly layered front brushing his collar (technically, Harry's collar as he was currently wearing his Godson's hand-knit sweater from Molly Wesley with the giant yellow "H" on the chest). She had lovingly trimmed his beard and this morning had pulled his hair back into a loose braid to keep it off his face.

Staring down at the cooling cream of broccoli soup on the tray, Ana sighed. "It's an academy way way up north for... well... kids who've been ... made not human."

"Not human?" Sirius repeated, wrinkling his nose.

"Yeah, you know – people who are turned into Vampires or Werewolves or little singing rocks and shit."

"Ah!" Sirius' eyes lit up. "That's the horrible island that Moony went to for a year! He told us all about it."

"Moony?"

"Ah, my Werewolf friend, remember?"

"Lupus something?"

"Lupin, Remus Lupin."

Ana nodded. "Appropriate name, when you think about it. Did he have a twin?"

Sirius shook his head, "Yeah. He said he was killed by the Werewolf that bit him, but wouldn't say anything more. Tender subject. And speaking of subjects, I won't let you change it. So, you were invited to the academy?"

Ana frowned, "Yes. And like your Moony, I found it to be a vile rock that I left a month later. I'm amazed he lasted a full year. I went in the inception year of the place and it was ghastly - I guess they thought that just because we weren't human we wouldn't need things like, I dunno, heat... comfortable beds... instructors who were actually _nice._ I think it really was the closest thing they could humanely call it was 'a school'. It was more of a prison, really." She scuffed her feet against the carpet.

Sirius looked longingly at his soup, but Ana was too busy staring at her socks to notice. He decided to get her attention back. "How old were you when you went?"

"Hm? Oh..." she did a quick count down on her fingers. "About two hundred something then... that was right around... 1890, I think, 'cause 'Dracula' had just come out and I remember getting a real kick out of it with one of the other Vampires. He totally bought into the whole 'stalking the nights and drooling over feminine throats' schtick."

"Oh? What happened to him?"

Ana bit her bottom lip. "He got a stake through the heart at Woodstock. Damned idiot was stoned from eating too many hippies. Wasn't paying attention to what he was doing."

She turned back to Sirius and smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry," he said, and was slightly surprised to realize he meant it. "You have affection in yoru voice… did you love him?"

"Love him?" she repeated, laughing. "No, he was just... he was the only other Vampire I knew who had been a Muggle when he was bitten. The rest of the Vampires... all of them I've ever met... were Wizards or Witches first."

Sirius nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, Harry said, in the Pensieve–"

"What he told you was true."

There was a pregnant pause.

"So you knew, your whole life that you...?"

Ana quickly spoon-fed him the rest of his soup, then set the tray aside and sat at the foot of the bed between his feet. She leaned back against the footboard and regarded him thoughtfully.

"In my village," she began slowly and Sirius focused on her. He moved only enough to scratch absently at the two black dots on his neck. "In my village, in the 1600s, in a backwards part of Europe... we paid a tithing to a monster."

"A tithing?" Sirius repeated, unsure that he actually wanted clarification.

"A tithing... one young woman, every eighteen years. The person knew who they were. It was always the first girl born after the last one was ... sent away."

"And you ...were the first girl born?"

Ana nodded. "I was told, from the minute I understood, that I would be 'sent away' on the first full moon following my eighteenth birthday to give my soul to a demon. If I didn't, the village would die, and seeing as I grew up knowing my fate, I never sought to question it." Her eyes lowered to where her fists were bunching in the maroon fabric on her bed cover. "God, we were such _idiots_."

Sirius studied her. She was only physically eighteen? The way she acted made her seem so much older, he decided, and the haircut helped. That's why she seemed to be in her early twenties to him. "Your soul? But I thought Vampires--"

"We didn't know it was a Vampire."

"...oh. Then what?"

"Well, I went. I ... Harry told you what happened. I went 'away' and expected to die and instead I... didn't. And he... he became fascinated with me, I guess. I don't presume to know why he did it. He just... did. And that's when I found out about the Wizarding world. He took me to Wizard places, showed me off at parties and stuff. I was like some..." she laughed a mirthless laugh, "some strange trophy wife."

Sirius wondered where this male Vampire who had so much dominion over her was and quashed a little spark of jealousy. "Did you kill him?"

"Kill him?" she laughed again and it made Sirius' skin goosebump. "No, I didn't kill him. He got a new girl in eighteen years and I was... left. I know he killed her, but he never... he just never came back to where we slept during the day. So I went away. I picked a direction and started walking and eventually ended up here, in England."

"Is he still alive... er, around?"

"Could be," Ana shrugged. "I ended up on a steamer ship with him once. We were both sailing to America and he went all alpha male on me and basically kept me locked in his cabin for six weeks - disgusting jerk. He thinks he's so macho or something. When we got to Boston he vanished off the pier and I haven't seen him since. That was…hmmm… just before the Titanic, I think."

Sirius shook his head, "Doesn't sound like he's big on the responsibility. I thought Vampire creators were supposed to be jealously protective of their progeny. That was I learned in DADA."

"Dada?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. It's a class up at Hogwarts."

Ana shrugged again. "Maybe they are. I've met a lot of Vampires with pretty good relationships with their makers - most were lovers before hand. But if one strays they get crazy. I've met loads who resent and have killed their makers or their progeny, too. I guess I'm the lucky one. The one with no one to care about and no one to care about me."

Sirius studied her with narrowed grey eyes. "That's a pretty pessimistic view on life."

"What else do you expect me to do?" she asked. "I can't get involved with a Muggle because they'd never be able to handle the truth, and I can't get with a Wizard 'cause they'd end up hunting me down. So I run an Internet business and go dancing on the weekends."

Sirius whined once, a low doggy sound of sympathy. "I know what it feels like to be hunted," he said softly and changed into his dog form. Then he limped forward until he was laying between her legs, his snout resting on one of her thighs. He made a low grumbley doggy version of a purr and closed his eyes.

As he drifted off, he wondered why being hunted seemed to be the theme of the lives of everyone he knew - Remus, Harry, himself, and now Ana...

"Yeah, good idea," Ana said as the sunrise began to edge over the roofs of the houses opposite and bounce back against her heavy, drawn curtains. "Sweet dreams, if you can still have them."

* * *

Several days later, Sirius and Ana were sitting outside under a tree in her back garden. Harry had gone home for supper and Sirius had said he wasn't hungry yet, so Ana had suggested they watch the last moments of the sunset.

Sirius was muffled in blankets and sweaters too keep off the chill, and Ana seemed fine in bare feet and a tank top. She was slowly rolling a Honeydukes blood lollipop around in her mouth and Sirius was doing in his absolute best not to stare and envision her sucking on _other_ things.

He had a half-finished glass of wine in his hand. The wine in his body was making his face warm, and his brain thing _wrong_ things. He was afraid to speak, lest he say something really stupid.

So he just stared at the sky over the roof of Ana's house and thought about how nice it would be to live here forever with her. Sirius liked living with Ana – she had set up a bed in the spare room for him and given him some old clothing to wear around the house. She said that it had belonged to an old boyfriend and that she had never gotten around to returning it.

Sirius felt silly in clothing that was vibrantly coloured and patterned with every celestial print known to man, but they were thick and warm and good quality so he didn't complain. Right now he was in a pair of bright purple, red, and green stripped trousers and a thick yellow sweater. He wondered if Ana's ex had been a circus runaway.

Beside him, Ana sighed and smiled softly. "This is nice," she said. "This quiet. I'm going to miss you guys when you leave."

Sirius nodded and scratched his neck absently. "Yeah, it is nice."

* * *

Before they knew it, it was August 16th, and Harry had received his long-awaited letter inviting him to spend the rest of his holidays at 'home'. He whooped and did a little dance in Ana's living room, where the owl had found him shortly after sunset.

He had spent the required amount of time at Privet drive (and really, most of it at Ana's), so he could now leave.

Sirius was seated on the couch, feeling much improved, but complaining off and on about the itchiness of the black dots on his neck. Ana noticed, and wondered if he'd seen it, that the dots seemed to be... well, not growing just... the veins around the dots on his neck seemed to be getting blacker too. She had a feeling this did not bode well, but didn't want to alarm Sirius by mentioning it.

If he didn't see it when he inspected them in the mirror, she hoped she was just being overly worried and seeing things that weren't there.

Plans were quickly being made for Harry and Sirius to get to London, when Harry stopped his dance to frown. "No way Uncle Vernon would let you in his car, Sirius - dog or no. And you're not strong enough to walk there alone. Besides, I don't want the Dursleys taking me to within even a block of there, and I don't really trust the Knight Bus with you or me."

Ana quickly spoke up. "I'll take you. We'll reduce your trunk to fit in my car and get Sirius a doggie seat-belt."

"Gee, thanks," Sirius growled.

Harry grinned, then stopped and started to look apprehensive.

"What's wrong?"

"Well, you can't know where I'm going. It's sort of the rules."

"Ah, I see," Ana said slowly. If she was disappointed, she hid it well from the two men in the living room with her. She had hoped she had become good friends with Harry and Sirius since the incident in the kitchen two weeks earlier, but now wasn't so sure. "How about I let you off at the Underground, then?"

Harry nodded and gave his thanks. He didn't think he'd have a hard time convincing the Dursleys.

* * *

"No, no, no," sputtered Vernon Dursley. "Absolutely not."

"What?" Ana gaped, her jaw somewhere down around her knees.

"I will not allow you to take Harry to St. Brutus'," Vernon said, slower and louder as if she was some idiot child. "Imagine how that would look!"

"St. Brutus'?" Ana echoed. "But I thought Harry went to _Hogwarts_."

With the mere mention of the school's name, Vernon's voice vanished and his face drained of colour. From the kitchen, where Petunia was making tea and Dudley was chowing down on yet another bag of cockroach clusters that would, yet again, make him sick (boy never learned! And it amused Harry so), there came a startled yelp and the loud crash of a falling tea-set.

Ana did not feel guilty in the least.

"Did he tell you?" Vernon whispered. "I'll box his ears for this. He knows he's not to spread those horrible lies!"

"Horrible lies!" Ana said, jumping to her feet and glaring down at Vernon across the coffee table. "They are not horrible lies!"

"They are too and I'll beat the boy within an inch of his life for spreading them!"

"_You will do no such thing_."

Vernon squeaked and shrank back into the plastic that covered the sofa.

Nothing had changed about Ana except her voice, but he could feel the menace bubbling under the surface.

"You're one of them," he hissed, spitting the word 'them' as if it was a cuss, "those... freaks."

"Damn straight I'm one of those freaks!" Ana snarled. "You're really that clueless eh? Never even _glanced_ at your nephew's copy of 'Great Wizards of Our Time' have you? I suggest you do - I'll give you a hint. Check under '_Potter, Harry_'."

"Get out of my house!" Vernon snarled, seeming to find his courage in the face of the suggestion that his good-for-nothing nephew may actually be worth something to someone else. "Get out!"

"Gladly!" Ana snipped. "But I'm taking Harry with me!"

"Fine! He belongs with you _freaks_ anyway!"

There was a long pause in which Ana just glared at Vernon. He met her gaze squarely, until he realized that she was not blinking. _At all. _He fidgeted nervously and looked away, flicking his eyes around the room, looking at everything but her, until her words brought his gaze back to her face.

"Freaks...?" she said slowly and he realized that she had lowered her head so that her face was hidden behind the waterfall of her fringe. "If you're going to call someone a 'freak', you better be damn sure you're saying it about the right person. As far as Wizards go, your nephew is fairly normal. I, on the other hand..." slowly she lifted her face so that she was able to meet his gaze. Vernon squeaked again, an aborted scream that remain lodged in his throat.

Her eyes had flooded entirely with a glowing crimson, and her eyeteeth were more than three times their normal length, and sharp.

"I, on the other hand..." she said again, "am about as freaky as they get."

Vernon stumbled backwards and let out a shrill scream.

"Oh, don't worry," she said casually and straightened, turning her back to him and walking towards the front door, "I'll let myself out. Oh," she paused, her hand on the doorknob, looking back over her shoulder so she could see both Vernon on the couch and Petunia and Dudley standing fearfully in the kitchen door, "before I forget -thank you for the invitation into your lovely home. If I hear anything else about you 'boxing' your nephew's ears, I will make a point of coming over for dinner again." She winked. "If you know what I mean."

Satisfied by the sounds of Dudley fainting and Petunia's horse-like shrill cries, she jammed her hands into her pockets and slipped across the street to her own driveway where an extremely convenient storm cloud was hovering over just her property, blotting out the sun.


	6. You're Alive!

Part Six: "You're Alive!"

* * *

The drive to London was slow and leisurely. For the first time in his life, Harry actually managed to enjoy the view out of the window. He had always been too wary of being hit by his cousin or too anxious to get to London to actually pay attention to the passing scenery.

Sirius was sitting up front with Ana, who was showing him how the various gear shifts and knobs and devices made the car go, and stop, and roll the windows up and down. When he asked her to teach him to drive, she laughed and shook her head.

"Not in my baby, I won't. I've had this thing since the early seventies."

Sirius wasn't offended. "Amazing Muggles," Sirius said, shaking his head in disbelief as he watched the wipers slide back and forth across the windshield.

The weather was cloudy, the air heavy and damp with the promise of rain that never fell, and fog rolled in around the car once or twice. When it did, Ana cussed under her breath, switched off the high-beams, and seemed to glare at the fog for a few seconds. Then it retreated.

They paused for a bathroom break in an old cemetery in Cottinshire, and the boys nipped out behind a mausoleum. Ana remained behind and walked around the car, admiring the broken down tombstones and the weather-eaten statues. When they were satisfied, they all clambered back into the car to finish the last leg of the journey.

When they reached the outer limits of London, Sirius changed into his dog state and stuck his head out the window. Happily he panted his way through the London streets, yipping or whining and jerking his snout in a specific direction to indicate that Ana ought to turn. Slowly Harry realized that Sirius was directing them towards the Underground station closest to the phone booth that would lead them down to the Ministry of Magic. Sirius was taking quite a risk to have them dropped off there - The-Boy-Who-Lived, an escaped murderer, and a vampire, all outside of the front entrance to the one place none of them were not really welcome…it didn't seem smart.

That is, it didn't seem smart until Harry saw Arthur Weasley standing beside the telephone booth, wringing his hands anxiously and glancing around. Sirius must have made prior arrangements to meet Mr. Weasley there, and Harry wondered if Sirius had signed Harry's name to the owl-letter when he did so.

When he spotted the purple car, Arthur's face lit up and he rushed out into the road, waving. Ana cussed and slammed on the brakes. "Idiot!" she snarled at him, but he was too excited to hear it.

Mr. Weasley rushed around to the passenger side of the car and stuck in his head. "Hallo, Harry! Good doggie." He patted Sirius' head in a friendly way, obviously not recognizing him. Then he looked up at Ana. "And you must be Harry's Muggle friend. I'm Arthur Wesley, I work in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office with the Ministry. Dreadfully fascinating automobile you have, miss." Ana smiled and her annoyance with Arthur was replaced by amusement at his obvious excitement.

"Well, hop in, Mr. Weasley--"

"-Oh, Arthur, please," he insisted, even as he opened the door.

Sirius had to leap over the back seat to avoid being squished as Arthur slid in, vibrating with enthusiasm.

"Arthur, then," Ana shifted gears and set the car in motion again. "I'll take the lot of you to the Leaky Cauldron... or, where I remember the Leaky Cauldron being... you'll be able to ... do that fireplace thing when you get there, right?"

Sirius remained staring at Arthur over the back seat of the car, in a state of disbelief.

Had Arthur really forgot his Animagus form so quickly?

Or was it just that with Sirius being 'dead' to everyone but Harry, he didn't even think to question?

Harry spoke up. "Are you sure, Ana? Mr. Weasley was going to take the Underground with us to where we needed to go, but--"

"But," Arthur interrupted, "I can't possibly pass up the chance to watch an actual Muggle drive!"

Harry laughed. "Ana isn't a Muggle, Mr. Weasley."

"She's not?" Arthur turned in his seat to look at Harry.

Ana's eyes narrowed at him in the rear view mirror. Sirius could see that she was _not pleased._ Sirius tried to shoot a look at Harry to get him to shut up, but Harry was smiling blithely at Arthur.

"Ana's like Remus," Harry said, reaching up to place a reassuring hand on Ana's shoulder.

"A professor?"

"No, Mr. Weasley."

"Um…a Werewolf?"

"A Vampire," Ana said softly, and Harry and Sirius could both feel the chill in her voice. "And I hope you don't have a problem with that, Arthur."

"Oh, none at all," Arthur reassured her hastily, although a wave of quick panic flashed across his face. "I find that most people have really misunderstood so-called 'Dark Creatures'. I mean, there are ones that obviously mean you harm - kappas, kraken, that sort - but just because someone's been bitten by a Werewolf or a Vampire or has become a ghost... that doesn't make them evil, per say." Arthur babbled on along a similar line until Ana's turning on of the indicator switch distracted him.

She patiently explained why she was signalling her turn and the rules of Muggle driving until they reached the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

To anyone who didn't know it was there, it looked like a boarded-up, abandoned building whose brick-face had been stained a dull ash from years of chimneys and London pollution, nothing worth noticing. The purple car stopped outside of it and Harry looked up. He could see the blackened sign that hung on the Muggle-front entrance of the shop slowly clear and become the familiar advert for the most famous tavern and inn on Diagon Alley, the Leaky Cauldron.

Ana turned off the engine and they all spilled out of the car, Sirius following closely at Harry's heels. Arthur looked up at the shop sign, then back at the car, his expression clearly saying that he wished the ride hadn't ended so soon.

Ana leaned over to give Harry and Sirius each a hug. "I don't appreciate you spilling my secret to everyone," she said softly to Harry. "I know these are your friends and you trust them, but I really would rather they thought I was just a Muggle, okay?"

Harry nodded and whispered a quick "sorry".

As she hugged Sirius goodbye he sprang up on his hind legs and wrapped his forepaws around her neck, giving her a big sloppy doggy kiss on the cheek. "Sirius!" she squawked and fell backwards on the paving stones. The dog landed on top of her, growling in a playful manner and kneading his paws into her shoulders, his ears pricked forwards.

"Sirius?" Arthur repeated and turned. He had been half way up the front step to allow Harry time to say goodbye to his Muggle friend and her dog. He paused. Then he took a good eyeful of the dog. "Oh, my word... _Sirius_?"

The dog scrambled off the dishevelled Ana and padded over to Arthur. The Wizard stared at down at the dog, eyes wide with shock. Sirius nipped the hem of his robes and tugged a little, then looked up and cocked his head to one side. Arthur gasped as the dog winked.

"Good Lord, Sirius!" Arthur hissed and dropped to his knees to envelop the Animagus in a breath-stealing hug. "We thought you were dead!"

"I'll explain at home," Harry said urgently. "We should get inside, we're attracting a crowd."

Indeed they were. Muggles with their shopping, mothers with young children pointing, old men with sacks of seed for pigeons, labourers on a break, and all other sorts of people were staring at them, and the purple car, with open curiosity.

Ana climbed to her feet and smoothed herself out. "I'll let you guys go - I'm sure you have a lot to talk about," she said and started back around her car.

"Wait!" Arthur called out. "Please, come in for a drink, at least. On me. It's the least we can do after you've brought Sirius back to us."

Ana waffled for a moment, but curiosity won out and she locked up her car. She tapped the hood gently and whispered something under her breath. Harry didn't know what it was but noticed that slowly, the car started to look a lot less new and appealing. It began to form grime and rust and Harry realized it must be a concealment spell similar to that which was placed on the outside of the Cauldron - within minutes the car looked just as beat up and worthless as the rest of the buildings and cars in this neighbourhood.

_She can't remember the name of the Death Eaters, but she remembers enough magic to protect her car. Figures, _he thought, smiling.

As a group, they entered the tavern. Harry's eyes swept the room as he nervously patted down his fringe. He didn't want to have to go through a round of hand-shaking before he got to his table. Thankfully, the bar was mostly empty as it was only mid-afternoon. Only four people sat in a corner booth, where Old Tom was talking to them in a pleasant sort of way.

One had violently green hair, another looked to be about forty-five or so, with mostly-grey hair, and the other two were kids no older than Harry.

"That's my best friends, Ron and Hermione," Harry said to Ana, before beaming a smile and dashing across the tavern to embrace them. Sirius let out a bark and followed. Tom withdrew and returned to the bar, where he started pouring butterbeers.

The two adults sat up straighter to watch the group arrive, but the man's eyes were wide and his face pale. He looked as if he'd seen a ghost. The grey-haired man cried out, "Padfoot?" and threw himself at the dog. They wrestled on the floor, which ended in an affectionate lick on the cheek from the mutt as the older man openly wept.

Arthur remained by Ana's side and they approached the table at a more steady pace. "Oi, Artie," the green-haired woman saluted him and slapped him on the back. Arthur hid his grimace with a smile. "Who's this?"

"Anathema Oldwyn," Ana said softly and took the proffered hand. "I'm Harry's neighbour."

"Not one of us, are you?" the young woman said thoughtfully. "You seem like the type Dumbledore likes."

Harry quickly shook his head. "She's not, Tonks," he said at the same time Ana said in a mildly surprised tone of voice: "Dumbledore?"

"Ah, oh well," Tonks shrugged. "I'm Tonks, have a seat. Thanks for delivering our little celebrity here."

"I'm not a celebrity," Harry said darkly, which only made Tonks laugh.

Ron and Hermione, who had been taking turns petting Sirius and bombarding him with questions that he couldn't possibly answer because he was still in dog form, (they couldn't risk Old Tom knowing), joined Harry, Arthur, Ana and Tonks at the table.

"Did you really ride in a car?" Ron asked, and Ana immediately recognized that the flaming-haired child must be Arthur's son.

"Did you ever figure out the black dots?" Hermione cut in before Harry had a chance to answer.

"Did your cousin _really_ eat two whole bags full of cockroach clusters?"

"What about the Vampire, what happened to it?"

"Whoa!" Harry said and held out his hands. "Yes, no, yes, and it's taken care of."

Ana laughed. Hermione frowned. "What about the person with the black dots? Harry, it wasn't you, was it?" Harry shook his head and leaned away from Hermione, who was reaching over the table to try to get at his collar.

"It was Padfoot, wasn't it?" the older man said as he approached the table, and Ana turned to look at him. She was startled to realize that the man was not old at all - in his mid-thirties at the very most - but had a timeworn look about him.

For half a second she met his eyes - underneath the weary blue, amber flashed. "You're the Werewolf, Remus Lupin," Ana blurted out before Harry could respond. "Sirius' friend Moony."

The man blinked, his bright blue eyes reminding Ana so much of a husky dog's. Or a wolf's. "I am," he said slowly, his nose twitching. His eyes suddenly widened and darted between Ana and Sirius.

"You're the--" Ana raised a hand to cut him off.

"I'd heard that Werewolves had good noses. I am, and it was a misunderstanding."

"Am the what?" Ron asked, looking like he was having a hard time keeping up.

Hermione gasped and understood immediately. "Ana's the Vampire who bit Sirius."

Ana threw up her hands. "Is nothing secret around here?"

"Not much." Tonks smiled.

Everyone fell silent for a moment as Tom delivered the butterbeers all around. He put a steaming mug of something red in front of Ana and she looked up at him with narrowed eyes. "I get your kind off and on," he said gently, amiably, "can recognize you lot a mile off. It's in the eyes. Enjoy."

"Thanks," she said slowly. She took a sip and smiled to herself, "Ooo – cinnamon." Then shook her head. "Years of safeguarding my secret _gone_ in a twenty second conversation. Now I remember why I don't like the Wizarding world."

Arthur Weasley looked up from his own butterbeer with a lopsided grin. "Well, at least you chose the right people to share it with. You'd be hard pressed to find one of us who are given to prejudicial thoughts."

Remus nodded, looking collected and staid once more. "We've all suffered through it ourselves – Sirius here has always been considered a dark wizard because of his family." Remus gestured to friend at his side. Sirius was sitting up on the booth seat beside him, muzzle-first in Remus' pint of butterbeer. Remus did not seem to mind that his best friend was drinking out of his mug. Dog drool _was_ dog drool. "I'm a werewolf, of course, and the Weasleys come from ancient and noble Wizarding stock, which makes them targets because they don't believe in pure-blood supremacy."

"_Every_one's worth the same," Ron spat, "except that bastard Malfoy."

"Ronald!" Arthur scolded, but was smiling in the corner of his mouth. Ana thought that perhaps the Malfoys were disliked all around, by the expressions on everyone's faces.

Remus forced his own smiled down and added, "And Ms. Granger and Ms. Tonks have mixed heritage."

"Muggleborn?" Ana asked, blinking at both of them. "But you both smell so _strongly_ of magic."

Hermione blushed and Tonks shrugged.

Ana shook her head. "Don't tell me they still try to pull that 'dirty blood' bullshit."

Hermione looked at the table. Harry's face grew redder and on the table, Ron's hands had balled into fists. _Ms. Granger's got a pair of very loyal friends_, Ana thought when she noticed the two boy's reactions. _She is a very lucky girl. _One of Ron's hands slipped under the table to presumably squeeze Hermione's knee or hold her hand. _Or maybe,_ Ana amended her observation, _one very loyal friend and one very loving boyfriend. Hm._

Hermione's face turned beet red and Ron's hand reappeared on the tabletop.

_Ah – unspoken love,_ Ana decided._ How cute._

Conversation picked up slowly as everyone sipped, and it stayed quiet. Eventually the tavern began to fill up with the evening regulars, and it was decided that those heading for 'home' ought to go before someone recognized Harry and/or Sirius. Harry footed Ana's bill, as he had a pocketful of Wizarding money and the only thing in Ana's wallet were English Pounds and a few American Dollars. Tom happily provided them with a room, which had a fireplace in which to floo away in private. They bid Ana goodbye and thanks at the door.

With a nod of thanks at Old Tom, Ana headed for her car, a warm tingly feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with her being full and everything to do with having spent a wonderful afternoon with a group of people who never once treated her negatively for her eating habits. "Dumbledore," she said thoughtfully to herself as she reversed the spell on her car and gunned the engine to life. She drove away laughing.

* * *

Three weeks passed before Ana received her first owl from Harry. She was not the least bit concerned - he was a young man at his friend's place. Sending letters to the crazy Vampire Lady who lived across the road from his Uncle and Aunt's place was probably not high on the priority list.

It did surprise Ana to realize that she _missed_ having Harry and Sirius around. It had been good to have friends again. As much of a loner as Ana claimed to like being, she had actually relished the times when Harry would come over and help Ana unpack her boxes, or when Sirius would try to trick her into kissing him, or when all three of them piled onto her large Tabasco-red couch in a comfortable tangle of limbs and just watch whatever movie was on the TV that night.

The envelope that Harry's letter came in also held letters from Sirius, Hermione, and Remus.

Harry's letter said briefly that he would be heading to Hogwarts in the morning and thank you again for all her help.

The other three, however, were longer.

_My Dearest, Darlingest Ana,_

Sirius' letter began, and she rolled her eyes as she sat on her front porch in clear view of Petunia Dursley. The owl who had delivered the letters, a small thing with a little chain around its neck with a tag that proclaimed him 'Pig' remained on her rail, nibbling on a treat and awaiting her returning letters.

_How I pine for you in my absence. _

_I am taking very good care of our ikle Harry-kins and I promise to be a very good doggie while I am away. I feel fine, even though Hermione keeps tugging at my collar to get a good look at my little love-bite spots. She says they're growing but I don't think they are at all. _

_Everyone was very happy to see me alive and well, even if I was a bit scuffed up. Remus beat me up for not owling him, and a got a spectacular shiner. _

_Ginny Weasley said it made me look "ruggedly handsome". _

_Molly Weasley threatened to come get revenge on my behalf for you stabbing me, but I told her that the only one allowed to lay a hand on you is me._

_Everyone is very happy that I am well and extend their thanks to you for putting up with my oh-so-adorable ass. _

_See you when Harry is off to Hogwarts - I'll Floo by sometime if you ever get a fireplace put into that strange Muggle house of yours. _

_Hugs and kisses, _

_Devotedly yours, _

_Padfoot._

Ana laughed aloud and scribbled him a quick note: _Be a good doggie and stay out of the floo network where the cops can find you. I'd love to have a visit, just not on opposite sides of the bars of a jail. – A_

Remus' letter was a bit more serious.

_Dear Ms. Oldwyn: _

_Thank you so much for your devoted care for my dear friend. _

_We were very very worried about him, and as you know, thought him dead. _

_Sirius is healing splendidly and no one here blames you for attacking him. You were just protecting Harry, and that is something for which we are grateful. Harry, as you know, is an integral part of the downfall of You-Know-Who and must be kept safe at all costs. I was very good friends with his father in school and I protect Harry not only because of You-Know-Who, but also because he is my best friend's son. _

_Harry will be returning to his Aunt and Uncle's, unfortunately, next summer, and I hope that you will be as good as a friend to him as you were this summer. Harry is sorely in need of people who trust and believe in him - he has not gotten a lot of trust or belief in his life. Thank you also for being such a good friend to Padfoot - he also is in need of someone to trust him. _

_I daresay our Padfoot is quite taken with you. There isn't a day when he doesn't say 'Ana this' or 'Ana that'. It's driving the portrait of his mother mad. But that's okay. At Harry's suggestion, we're renting a Muggle contraption called a 'chainsaw' this afternoon to cut the loud old woman out of the wall. _

_If ever you need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to contact me. I am a former professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts and as a fellow former-human, I feel that I would be very understanding of your dilemmas. Harry has let on that your turning was not a pleasant one, if I may be so bold to bring it up. There is a sympathetic ear here, if you'd care to take advantage of it. _

_We shall have to meet at Diagon Alley for another drink sometime - in a private room at the Leaky Cauldron where Padfoot cannot be seen? _

_Until then, hoping your days are cloudy and your nights warm,_

_Remus J. Lupin _

Ana added to the bottom of Sirius' note a quick thank you and an inquiry as to what day and time is good for Remus. As the owner and maintainer of a popular blogging website, Ana was free pretty much any time she wished.

The last letter was the longest and was written in a tight, evenly spaced feminine hand:

_Ms. Ana Oldwyn; _

_My name is Hermione Granger and I am a good friend of Harry's. We met at the Cauldron a few weeks ago. _

_First off, thank you very much for being a good friend to Harry when he was with his family. They treat him horribly. _

Here the script was interrupted by thick, jittery letters:

**_And thanks for giving Dudley all those Cockroach Clusters! That was brilliant! –– Ron _**

The feminine hand writing returned:

_Ron can't resist writing in my letters. I also wanted to thank you for jumping to Harry's defence, even if it was Padfoot you bit. Professor Lupin won't say anything in his letter, or to Padfoot, but I think I ought to tell you, we're actually sort of worried about him. _

_He's gotten back all of his energy and cheerfulness and his colour has returned as well. He still seems haunted, but twelve years in Azkaban and then falling through the Veil will do that to you. _

_However, the black spots on his neck have not yet vanished and I believe that the black is spreading to his surrounding veins. _

_As a Vampire, I hope that you can tell me what is happening to Padfoot. He's begun to loose his appetite, and he doesn't go outside unless it's cloudy any more. He denies these facts and won't see reason when I tell him we ought to get a reliable medi-Wizard in to see him, even if it is just Madam Pomfrey. _

_Harry tells me you choose to live more as a Muggle than a Witch or a Vampire, so maybe my hope that you'll be able to tell me what's wrong is futile, but I hope nonetheless and pray that my worst fears are not truth. _

_Is Padfoot infected?_

_Eagerly awaiting your answer, _

_Hermione _

Ana sat back in her chair, stunned and concerned.

Sirius? Infected?

No... it couldn't be... he hadn't tasted her blood, and that's how her Master had turned her, wasn't it?

Suddenly Ana wished that she had bothered to stay at that horrid academy - they may have taught her how to recognize signs that a Vampire had infected their victim.

Scribbling a quick note to Hermione and sending all three on their way with Pig, Ana dashed into her house and packed up a knapsack of her one spell book, a change of clothes, her old disused wand, and a few packets of blood she had nicked from a local blood bank in case of an emergency.

It was nearing three in the afternoon now. If she waited until sunset, she could assume a more travel-friendly shape and make her way to where she wanted to go.

_Hermione:_ her note had said.

_I can't tell you the correct answer, but now I'm worried to. I'm going to see the one man who can tell me. I'm certain he'll know, as soon as I can figure out where he is now. If anyone of you is looking for me, I'll be at the Ministry of Magic Census office tomorrow - I need to figure out where he's moved to. _

_After that, I'll be on my way to find him, where ever that is. Your owls will be able to find me. _

_Keep an eye on Padfoot and if he starts displaying signs of an affinity for raw meat, let Remus and I know immediately. Wishing for the best, --A _

Making sure she had everything she would need, Ana pulled her car into her garage and shut and locked all her doors and windows. _Petunia Dursley would get a real kick out of knowing that I'm going to go on a walk, and see that I don't return for a couple of days,_ Ana thought to herself with a sly, cynical smirk. _Oh, well, at least she'll have something to talk about._

* * *

By the time night fell, Ana was on the outskirts of Little Whinging. If she'd taken her car, she could be in close to London by now, but she didn't want to leave her baby parked on some side road for days at a time, hoping no one decided to key or steal it.

Ana stopped at a small crossroads and stared up at the moon.

"Well, Old Watcher," she said to it. The moon waited patiently for her to continue. "I haven't done this in... oh, half a century at least. Promise not to laugh at me if I bollocks it?"

The moon reserved comment.

Quickly and with a cautious glance around her to make sure the only eyes on her were the moon's, Ana stripped off her clothing (a pair of docks, blue jeans, a red turtleneck sweater, and a thin, black leather jacket that had seen better days) and folded them away in her bag. With a wave of her misused wand, she muttered an incantation to shrink her rucksack and its contents to a manageable size.

She was very pleased when it actually worked.

Then she carefully placed her wand on the grass beside the shrunken knapsack and crouched low to the ground, ignoring the gooseflesh the chill night air was rising on her nude body.

With a shiver and a shudder and small exhalation of pain, Ana shrank into a swirling black mass of flesh and blood that somehow reassembled itself into the form of a small black bat.

The bat let out a high-pitched squeal that may have been either a cuss or an exclamation of joy, then wriggled its wings into the straps of the rucksack, clasped the wand carefully in its claws, and took to the air, flying directly towards London.

It was a little past dawn when the common black bat finally found a corner of London empty enough to risk the transformation back into her humanoid shape. Ana was exhausted and slightly sun-burnt as she emerged from the alley way, hastily dressed, wrinkled, mussed and limping.

* * *

The sun was annoyingly bright and she chastised herself for forgetting her yellow and red umbrella. You'd think after three hundred years, she'd remember stuff like that. She swung her gaze around the alley, pulling her leather jacket up over her head to shade her, pulling the cuffs over her already raw and blistering fingers, and stepped out onto the sidewalk and began down the street.

Ana had no idea where she was, no idea where the nearest underground station would be, and no idea how close to where Harry and Sirius were. If she could just get to an underground stop she would be safe from the sun, but she didn't see any around on this street. Ana also didn't want to waste precious time trying to figure out where the Hell Sirius was – she wished she had an owl so she could send him a letter.

Or, actually, it would probably be best to send Remus Lupin the letter first, so Sirius didn't panic.

As she walked, every few moments Ana would risk the burning feeling in her eyes to glance up at the sky.

The fifth time she was rewarded by seeing a delivery-owl shoot by.

"Wait!" she called after it, and the owl turned gracefully in the air to come back and flap beside her. Muggles on the sidewalks all around her moved to avoid the weirdo on the street talking to the birds, but she couldn't care less. "If I pay you, can you deliver an extra message?"

The owl hooted its affirmation, and Ana motioned it to follow her under the shade of a nearby grocer's overhang. The little food mart wasn't open yet, thankfully, and the delivery owl found a perch on an empty fruit display case.

Ana pulled a pen and notebook from her rucksack and hastily scribbled a note:

_Remus:_

_I am in London, in need of shelter for the day. Don't know where I am. Will find an Undergound stop and try to make it to the Cauldron. Meet you there, ASAP –A._

She wrapped the note around the owls' leg and placed a five-pound note in its collection pouch. The owl hooted indignantly.

"I know it's not Wizarding money," Ana said in an apologetic tone of voice. "Hopefully your employer will find the Muggle money a novelty. I'm sorry I don't have anything else."

The owl clacked its beak in an annoyed sort of way, but took off to deliver the letter nonetheless.

Ana watched it go, one hand up shading her eyes, then shrugged her jacket up over her head again and headed down the sidewalk once more. Eventually she would have to stumble upon an Underground station.

She just hoped she didn't French-fry before then.

She ploughed on a head and thought wistfully of the foggy, drizzly days that London was supposed to be famous for.

* * *

When Remus Lupin awoke late in the morning, it was to two things - first the smell of the approaching rain, which tended to tamp down the acrid reek of the pollution that he had come to associate with metropolis. Second was the slightly desperate scratching sound on the bottom half of his bedroom door which meant Sirius was on the other side in his dog form and begging to be let in.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," the Werewolf sighed and pulled himself out of bed. The damp weather made his joints ache, and he stopped to pull a night robe on over his pyjamas before going over to open the door. "It's not like you don't have opposable thumbs."

Sirius bounded inside the bedroom with something in his mouth, and landed on his bed in his human form. It appeared as if he was still in his sleeping attire as well - which, for Sirius, meant he had bothered to put on boxer shorts.

"Remus, look! It's a note for you, and the address is in a _girl's_ handwriting."

"Give it here, Sirius," Remus said, fastening his robe and then holding out one hand. Trust Sirius to be so... so... _juvenile_. For all he knew, it was just Prof. McGonagall asking how his last Full Moon Phase had gone. No girl had written a love letter to Remus J. Lupin in a very long time.

"I want to read it to you," Sirius said, climbing to his feet on the bed and holding the pieced of lined paper up out of his friend's reach.

"Sirius, you look perfectly ridiculous," Remus muttered, but did not pursue him. Instead, Remus sat in a chair by the empty fireplace and ignited the waiting tinder with a muttered spell. "A man your age, jumping on the bed, acting like an over eager puppy."

"And I suppose I ought to become a cynical old pack-wolf like you?"

Remus aimed a smirk and his wand-tip at his friend. "Don't make me do the jelly-legs curse on you. You know I still remember how."

Sirius pouted and turned his back on Remus, un-rolling the note.

"Padfoot," Remus pulled himself to his feet and left the relative comfort of the fire-side to climb up onto the bed beside his friend. "Those marks are getting worse - the black in your veins has gone all the way up to your ear."

Sirius pulled away from his friend and looked him in the eye. "It has not - you and Hermione are just being paranoid. I feel _fine_."

Remus sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. It was no use arguing with Sirius. Anyone with eyes could see that the blackness was spreading, and Remus was staring to be concerned. Something about this spreading darkness _worried_ Remus. It also niggled his memory – he remembered reading something about something like this, but he didn't know where and in which book.

Remus thought Sirius was ignoring the obvious danger of the blackness just because he was so taken with Ana and didn't want to blame her for anything.

Remus wished that Dumbledore was around to give him advice, but the Headmaster was at Hogwarts preparing for the arrival of the students. Most of the Order were also away, doing various things to prepare for either Harry's move to Hogwarts or their own children's, or doing secret espionage-type stuff.

At the moment, only Padfoot, Molly Weasley, young Ginny, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and himself were at Grimmauld place. Oh, and Kreacher, but he hardly counted. The horrid portrait of Mrs. Black had been removed and tossed in the waste-bin yesterday evening ('Thank god! Finally!' was what he had thought about that), and the children would be off to Hogwarts that very morning, so that left Remus alone to worry about this Sirius/Ana problem.

Sirius, ignoring the look of serious musing on his friend's face, unfurled the note and read aloud:

_Remus:_

_I am in London, in need of shelter for the day. Don't know where I am. Will find an Undergound stop and try to make it to the Cauldron. Meet you there, ASAP –A._

"A?" he said softly. "Ana? Remus, what's she doing in London?" He paused for a moment, hurt flashing briefly across his eyes and he sank to his knees on the covers. "Why didn't she owl _me?_"

Remus didn't hear Sirius' whined question. Remus was already flying around his room, pulling on his robes and trying to comb back his hair. He paused only long enough to stare incredulously at Sirius, who was still sitting on the bed, looking like a kicked puppy.

"What are you doing?" he growled. "Go get some real clothes on, you idiot. We have to go get her."

Sirius blinked at him stupidly.

Remus sighed. "I can smell a storm approaching, which means she's bending the weather to her will, but it's still ungodly sunny out there. We have to get to her and get her inside somewhere before she burns to death."

"Oh!" Sirius jumped off the bed on two feet and landed on four. Padfoot scampered out into the hall, nails clicking on the hardwood floors, and Remus could hear him banging open his wardrobe doors in the room over. Crotchety old Mrs. Black would be horrified to think of a dog in her house – the floors were already very scuffed from her son's running about. Sirius reappeared in Remus' room in record time, clad in his riding leathers.

Remus shook his head - Sirius had even combed his hair and tied it back. He really was head-over-heels for this Ana. They descended the staircase and Sirius took on his dog shape to allow Remus to slip a collar over his neck and attach a leash, to make it appear as if the nice old man who lived at #12 Grimmauld Place was just out to walk his dog. Secretly, Remus wondered how much of this infatuation was genuine, and how much was due to the bite.

It was infuriating him that Remus couldn't remember where he had read about the black dots.

He left Kreacher with instructions to deliver a note to Molly Weasley as soon as she woke up which told her to take the children to King's Cross on her own that morning to catch the Express. He and Sirius had business to attend to, and they were sorry to leave her alone with them, but were confident that she could handle it.

Remembering to snatch a parasol out of the strange umbrella-bin on his way out the door, Sirius straining at his leash, Remus allowed himself to be dragged along the road to a place that was safe for them to Apparate to The Leaky Cauldron.

Remus barely managed to tip his hat to a nice old Muggle neighbour who waved to the worn-looking man walking his giant black mutt.

* * *

Several hours and a few cups of hot blood courtesy of Old Tom later, (whom she tipped especially well as she felt guilty for getting him out of bed so early in the morning), Ana found herself leaving a note for Remus with the bartender saying that she had moved on to the Census office without him in search of the man she knew who could help.

Ana felt stupid for not thinking of him first.

There was a time when she definitely would have thought of him first.

She was slightly perturbed to realize that her thoughts of Sirius had usurped this man.

Ana balked when Tom offered her the fireplace for flooing.

Of all the Wizarding ways she was familiar with, she loathed flooing the most. It was terrifying to think that she may end up in the wrong place, or that she might smash into someone else, or crack her head off someone's chimney.

But speed won out over fear and Ana sucked it up and flooed.

Half an hour after Ana had reluctantly flooed to the office, Old Tom looked up to see Remus Lupin stumbling into the main room of his tavern, being hauled along by his monster of a dog - 'Padfoot' hadn't Harry called the great mutt?

"Lupin," he called out, and held up the scrap of parchment the Vampire had left with him. "She left you a message."

Remus thanked Tom sincerely and the dog leapt up and rested its giant forepaws on a bar stool, regarding his master quizzically as Remus's bright blue eyes scanned the sheet. "Damn," he hissed under his breath, thanked Tom and passed him a few knuts, and picked up the big dog.

Tom was amazed at his strength for a brief second before he remembered that Lupin was a Werewolf. Word had filtered down from Hogwarts when Snape had 'accidentally' let it slip three years ago, and Tom had realized why he had always been wary of young Master Lupin.

But Tom had served weirder and meaner in his bar, and he had never felt the need to fear Lupin, so never said anything about it.

Lupin, clutching the dog close to him, pulled a handful of floo powder out of the pot by the mantelpiece and stepped into the fireplace. "Ministry of Magic, Census Office!" he shouted, and they both vanished in a burst of green flame.

Old Tom yawned and decided to go back to bed.

* * *

At exactly thirteen minutes past nine o'clock, Ana Oldwyn, crouched over a large tome that was currently self-updating, let out a low whistle.

"Well, I'll be damned," she said to herself and stood up, leaving the tome open on the page with the 'D's.

She went to the clerk and thanked the sleepy-eyed teenaged Witch, and left yet another note before heading out the door.

_Remus and Padfoot:_

_Sorry to have gone on without you. I found who I was looking for - it'll start raining any minute now, so I'm going to start walking. Once sunset falls, I'll be able to travel faster. I have to run some errands in town before we can meet up. Padfoot, if you could meet me at that cemetery outside of Cottinshire, the one where we took the travel break on the way into London, I should be there around sunset. _

_You can still Apparate, right?_

_Come prepared to travel._

_Remus, thank you so much, and thank Miss Granger as well. Sirius and I will be on our way as soon as possible. Don't worry about us._

–_A_

Ana felt like she was playing answering machine tag.


	7. Anything But Nothing

Part Seven: "Anything But Nothing"

* * *

Ana sat on a low tombstone, sure that Mr. Maximilian Stanton wouldn't mind her borrowing it, as he was dead. The sun had set almost an hour ago and she had thought Sirius would have been here by now. Maybe he no longer remembered how to Apparate after all?

A soft 'pop' sound erased those thoughts and Ana stood to look over her shoulder to where the sound came from. Behind her stood Remus Lupin and Sirius in his dog form.

For a brief second Remus and Ana's eyes met - they stared at each other intensely, then Ana broke off eye contact and looked down at Sirius with a smile. When she looked away, Remus had to consciously keep himself from overbalancing.

"Mr. Lupin," Ana said and dipped her head at him. He repeated the gesture.

"Ms. Oldwyn," he returned. "I hope this doesn't turn out to be a wild goose chase."

"I hope so too," she said softly. "C'mon, Sirius, we should get going."

Sirius took a few steps towards Ana, but Remus put out his hand and stopped his friend. Then he knelt beside him and gave him a fierce hug. "Sirius, don't go and do anything stupid, okay? You always worry me when you take off somewhere and I can't protect you from yourself."

The dog whined once and licked his friend's ear. Remus chuckled. "Okay, okay - just be careful, alright? You've died twice on me already."

The dog nodded and Remus stood and came forward to take Ana's hand. "Ms. Oldwyn... Ana... whatever is happening, I won't ask you to explain it to me. Just... make sure that Sirius stays safe?"

Ana didn't know what to say, and just nodded instead. She swallowed hard and finally managed to say, "I'll do what I can for him."

That seemed to satisfy the Werewolf and he stepped back, cast one last, lingering glance at his friend, and Apparated away.

Sirius trotted over to stand beside Ana and looked up at her with questioning grey eyes. She bent down to embrace the big mutt as well. "Ready to go, Sirius?" there was a woof and she chuckled, then straightened. "Good - I'll need you to Apparate us somewhere, 'cause I never learned how to do it. Just... gimmie a sec to get into a more travel-friendly form." She walked around to the other side of a mausoleum and Sirius started to trail after her. "Oh no you don't," she said. "You stay right there."

Sirius whined but did as he was told. From the other side of the monument she said, loud enough for him to hear, "I need to get to a town called Hogsmede, do you know it?" As she spoke she began to strip and shove her clothing into her rucksack, preparing to change into her bat form. She pulled her shirt over her head and her arms out of the sleeves.

Sirius barked, which she took as a 'yes.'

"There's a school nearby that we can't Apparate into, so we're going to have to sneak in instead," she said as she toed off her boots, and started to unzip her fly.

"Hogwarts?" Sirius' voice said, and Ana jumped. Hot breath wafted into her ear and warm arms folded themselves around her waist, one hand sliding up to fiddle with the strap of her bra.

"S-Sirius!" she stuttered, "What are you doing? What if someone sees you?"

"There's no one here except you and me and a bunch of dead people," he said and she could tell by the tone in his voice that he was smirking. "And I really doubt they mind." He leaned down and gave her shoulder a nibble. "I thought maybe you'd let me return the favour... you know..." He started sucking lightly, "a mark of my own for the one you've given me..."

Ana wriggled out of his embrace and turned to face him, hands on her hips. She looked delicious in the light of the moon, clad only in jeans and a bra, but Sirius didn't say so. He didn't dare.

She looked angry.

"Do that and you're dead," she said, her voice low.

"Aww, Ana, I'm just teasing--" Sirius began and Ana cut him off with a low snarl.

"No, I mean literally." She let out a deep sigh and crossed her hands over her chest. "I've already drunk from you - if you were to drink from me, then that would be it. You'd become a ... a Vampire."

Sirius lowered his eyes and let forth a dog-like whine. "But I want to! I mean, I don't want to be a Vampire, but I can't... I have this urge... this need to be with you... I can't make it go away. Ana..." he started forward a few steps and Ana backed up quickly. "This can't come as a surprise to you," he said, "I mean, I thought my feelings were pretty clear."

"They are clear, Sirius," she said, and took a small step back. "I just… I don't think I'm ready for this right now. Geeze, Sirius, we have more important things to worry about than this soap opera crap."

"Soap opera crap?"

Ana made a frustrated sound and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know what I mean. Can we talk about this later?"

Sirius frowned. "We can't talk about this now?"

"Sirius – for god's sake, this is _serious_. Just not right now, okay? Later."

"Ana, I just want to hold you. Please. I need to be close to you."

Sirius opened his arms and tried to embrace Ana. She took another few steps backwards and accidentally banged into a gravestone. She knocked herself off balance and stumbled. Sirius took the opportunity to grab her and wrap his arms around her shoulders and bury his nose in her hair. He inhaled deeply and Ana froze.

"Sirius, stop it," she said, but he wasn't listening. "We don't have time for this!"

She felt his hot lips trail from the back of her ear to the hollow of her throat, forcing her head back and her chin up. She swallowed heavily, forcing back the memories of the night of her changing.

"Sirius, something's wrong," she tried again. "Why aren't you listening to me?"

He was hot, hot in the way that a mortal was to a Vampire's touch, but more so. Sirius was feverish, flushed. Ana could hear his heart pounding away at a quickened pace, could hear the slosh of blood in his veins slipping faster.

This wasn't right.

Even if it was lust heating him up, speeding his pulse, he was too hot, it was too fast.

"Yes, yes, wrong," he panted against her skin, one hand fumbling at the clasp of her bra, the other winding in her hair, pulling her head to the side, stretching the skin on her neck taught. "Too far away from you, don't stop touching me, want you so bad..."

His teeth grazed her collarbone and Ana shoved. Sirius went flying backwards, his fingernails scraping five small gashes in her shoulder as he tried to hang on to her. He hit the grass hard and lay sprawled on his back, not moving.

Ana blinked and shook her head.

What the hell had just happened?

Sirius sounded, smelled, felt aroused, but Ana knew Sirius better than that. The Sirius she had come to know during his time at her Privet Drive house would have stopped when she had told him to. That Sirius would have respected her request, agreed to talk later.

Something was _definitely_ not right.

"S-sirius?" Ana said softly, taking a few tentative steps towards him, ignoring the blood on her shoulder, running in small streams down her arm and across her breasts. "Sirius?"

He sat up, mechanically, and Ana let out a little 'yip'. He was moving... inhumanly. Like he had a hinge in his hips. His eyes were lowered and he was staring at his hands. He seemed to fixate on the blood under his nails. Slowly, he raised the fingers to his lips and lapped at them.

"Sirius, don't!" Ana said and rushed forward to grab his wrists and hold them away from his face. He snarled and looked up at her.

His beautiful grey eyes held a glowing tint of red. "Give me the blood!" he snarled and bared his teeth at her. "Give it to me!"

"Sirius, stop it!" she shrieked and forced him back onto the grass on his back. He struggled, hissing and spitting, and she sat on his hips, pinning his wrists against he ground with one hand. He may have been thrashing like a mad man, but she was still a Vampire and therefore much stronger than he.

"Sirius!" she tried again. "Sirius, snap out of it!"

He only threw his head from side to side, mouth wide. He strained upwards, teeth snapping at the air, trying to bite her.

Unable to think of anything else, Ana struck him across the face with her free hand. It forced his head to the side.

The slap seemed to have its intended effect, and Sirius immediately stilled. When he slowly turned his face back to hers, his eyes were once again the clear grey, but were filled with confusion.

"Ana?" he groaned and she released his arms. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. "What just happened? I feel like shit."

Ana bit her bottom lip and pulled down the collar of his dark shirt - there were the black dots, slightly bigger than before, and the black tracing along his veins like Hermione and Lupin had said. She ignored his protests and outbursts of confusion and pulled his shirt over his head entirely. The black had travelled so far down his torso that it was almost at his heart, and so far up his neck that it was lost in his hairline.

"Well, now, if this is what this whole 'meet me in the graveyard' thing was about," Sirius said, distracting her from her disturbing discovery, "I'm all for it. This is kinda kinky." He slid one hand around to her bottom and the other up to hold her cheek as he pressed his lips to hers.

Ana jumped away from him, realizing that she had been sitting on him still, and turned her back to him. "Put on your shirt, Sirius. We have to get going."

"I… what?" he said, obviously having issues with her _non sequitur_.

Ana didn't turn to face him. "We didn't come here for _that_. We don't have time. Put on your shirt and let's get going."

She could hear the rustle of fabric as he did as he was told. "Hogsmede, right? I think that's where you said we were going but I... hm... I think I hit my head or something, 'cause everything after that is foggy."

"Yeah, you... uh... slipped on the wet grass," Ana lied.

"Oh - that explains the throbbing behind my eyes. I wonder what I ... hey, what happened to your shoulder?" she heard him ask as he got to his feet. "Did someone scratch you?"

Ana closed her eyes and slid one hand over the scratches to hide them as they healed. "It's nothing," she lied, knowing that it was anything but.

* * *

Ana tried not to look at Sirius as they walked through the brush behind the Shrieking Shack. He said he was familiar with the area, and had Apparated them there, then took on his dog shape and led her through the winding paths around Hogsmede with more familiarity than she would have expected from him.

She was worried, of course. What had that outburst in the graveyard been all about? And why didn't he remember any of what he'd said and done?

He had tried to seduce her - assaulted her - screaming for "the blood".

There was something inside of Sirius Black, and it wanted for her to turn him fully. She wanted to know if it was him, or a result of the Bite, or maybe if it was something else he may have brought back with him from Beyond the Veil.

And there was only one person she knew who could tell her that. Besides her Master, of course, but she had no idea where to start looking for HIM, and was fairly certain that she wouldn't like anything he said, anyway.

It wasn't going to be easy to sneak into Hogwarts to ask this other person.

Ana was sure she could just ask any expert on the Dark Arts, but said experts also usually happened to be professional monster-killers. This person was a close friend.

Of course, she really didn't want to sneak into the school, not when it was as easy as just approaching the castle and knocking on the door - but she wasn't sure of how much security was up around the building to protect the students.

A Vampire and an escaped mass murderer would not just be allowed to wander up to the front entrance - especially when Harry Potter was there.

Sirius said he knew a way into the castle, however. A secret way from his days as a student, and she trusted him.

What she didn't trust was being alone with him - not when there was a possibility that he may attack her again, if whatever it was that was making him yearn for the blood took over.

Sirius kept glancing across his back, but Ana's eyes were on the terrain. He guessed that she was following him more with her nose than her eyes.

* * *

'_I can't believe I actually kissed her,_' he thought to himself for the umpteenth time, his tail giving a half-hearted wave at the happy thought. It was followed directly after by, '_Why didn't she kiss me back?'_

He let out a low wuffing grunt and turned his muzzle towards the Shrieking Shack.

"In there?" he heard Ana ask and he chuffed once. "Alright, if you say so."

Sirius knew the Shrieking Shack well. Not only had he spent many a full moon night here with his friends ('_EX-Friend when I find that goddamned rat'_ he thought savagely), but he had also spent nearly a full year here while Harry was in his third year.

He nudged a knot in the wood on the wall beside the door in just the right spot to make the lock jolt and grant him access through a hidden, doggy-sized door. He took a few cautious steps inside, sniffing out the situation. When he was certain that the Shack had not been disturbed since he and Moony's last visit here almost three years earlier, he changed into his human form and unlocked and opened the door for Ana.

She stood on the steps, looking nervous.

"C'mon in, darling," he said softly, his voice a low drawl. "No body here but us."

"This is supposed to be the most haunted place in all of Britain," she countered, not moving an inch.

Sirius laughed. "This! From a _Vampire_."

Ana frowned at him. "It's not funny. I'm scared of haunted places."

"_You're_ scared of ghosts?"

"They freak me out! You can see right through them!"

"It's not haunted," Sirius assured her. "The sounds people heard in here weren't ghosts - they were Remus, on his wolfy nights."

Apprehension still in her eyes, Ana accepted his offered hand and let him pull her into the ramshackle building. He was more than half tempted to just keep pulling and bring her right into his embrace, but didn't.

As much as Sirius Black had grown to feel affection for Anathema Oldwyn in the past two and a half months, he wasn't sure if she returned his feelings at all. In fact, truth be told, he wasn't sure were his own feelings were coming from. Okay, she was hot, that was un-debatable. Even Harry found her attractive. (Of course, Harry was a sixteen-year-old boy. He found anyone with boobs attractive).

And he had seen enough of her while she thought him still a harmless dog to know that her yoga pants and loose tank tops hid far more than her pale skin.

She was sympathetic and understanding and wonderfully protective (even if that protectiveness landed him with a steak knife in the shoulder and two permanent marks on his throat), and really kinda smart too. She understood the Muggle world far better than he ever would, and she seemed to know a fair amount about the Wizarding world to boot.

As someone who had to remain undercover a lot, he could appreciate that she could slip through both worlds almost effortlessly.

She was sarcastic and bitchy and hated the Dursleys just as much as Harry did. And Sirius had a sneaking suspicion that she had a little swirly Celtic knot tattooed on the small of her back, but he'd never got a good enough look at it to be able to tell.

Sirius was in very real danger of falling in love.

He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

First off, who would be dumb enough to get involved with a Vampire? (This, of course, coming from the man whose best friend was a Werewolf). It was common knowledge that most Vampires ended up turning their lovers and as much as Sirius would have enjoyed the powers and immortality that came with Vampirism, he wasn't sure he was ready to give up the sun, or his freedom - even if it did mean that Ana would love him back.

_If_ being a Sire's progeny was a guarantee of love, at all.

Vampires were hunted things in the Wizarding World. They were automatically considered untrustworthy, evil, corrupted. People assumed they were murderers and monsters. Sirius had known Ana long enough to know that she never killed anyone to feed and she had her head on straight – but she had a chip on her shoulder the size of a bludger when it came to the way she was treated by Witches and Wizards.

It was also very hard to have a home when one was undead. Eventually people cottoned onto you, and you had to uproot yourself again.

Vampires were always on the run, hiding in the shadows, living hand to mouth and just trying to find a few fleeting moments of happiness.

Sirius didn't blame Ana for choosing to live in the Muggle world. If Remus had the technical skills, he would probably be living as a Muggle too.

Secondly, Sirius wasn't 100 per cent sure where Ana stood with this Voldemort thing. Could she be trusted with knowing about the Order? Or would he have to continually make up excuses about why she would never be able to go some places with him?

Thirdly, it was awfully damned arrogant of him to believe that anyone would fall for him. He was an escaped convict after all, and not exactly the most trust worthy of men. He'd been through enough years of emotional torture at the hands of the Dementors, and then again on the other side of the Veil, to know that he'd be a horrible bedfellow due to his nightmares. Someone as (bitter)sweet as Ana didn't deserve someone as fucked up as himself.

He couldn't help, also, thinking about the fact that she had smiled warmly at Remus in the graveyard, the way they had locked eyes, and that she had sent Remus the owl-letter when she was in danger, and not himself.

It was possible that she felt a connection to Remus that he would just never be able to match - as former humans, both of them, they already had way more in common than Ana and himself (who really only had the blood she had licked off the knife in common).

Well, if that's the way it was, Sirius wasn't going to begrudge his best friend a chance at happiness. Lord knows Remus needed it.

Shaking his head to clear the morbid thoughts from his mind, Sirius adjusted the grip on her hand and led Ana to a chair by the far wall. It was the only intact piece of furniture in the room, the rest having been smashed in either one of his own frustrated rages, or in one of Lupin's. He picked up the chair carefully, so as not to disturb the dust, and set it aside.

Ana watched him quizzically as he bent and nimbly and expertly opened the trap door, without leaving a single fingerprint in the dust. He had done this often, she realized.

"You go in first," he said and helped her down. "Lend me your wand so I can put the chair back and erase our foot prints."

She did so, although Sirius was slightly surprised at her hesitancy to hand him her wand. From the look of it, it was old and slightly brittle from disuse. There were hardly any fingerprints on it, though, like she avoided touching it as much as possible. Right around the middle of the wand were two sets of four tiny gashes in the wood.

The scratches shone white against the dark lacquer of the wand.

"_Lumos_," he said, closed the trap door over their heads, and preformed the spells to cover their tracks. He then brought the wand down between them - twelve inches, he guessed, and probably ebony. "Say, what are these?"

"Claw marks," Ana said softly, accepting her glowing wand back. "Only way I can carry the thing when I'm in my other form. Speaking of which -ow!" she cussed as the top of her head hit the ceiling. "God-damned it. I'm switching forms again, hold on. It'll be easier if you become a dog and I just cling to your fur - you know the passage okay?"

Sirius nodded, "I'm okay with it in the dark."

"Fine, _Nox_."

The wand-light went out and Sirius could hear the sounds of Ana undressing in the dark. Unlike him, she needed to be nude to change forms, and could not take her clothing with her.

'_Too damn bad she's modest_,' he thought before becoming a dog and scooping her pack and clothing into his mouth. He debated briefly whether or not to 'accidentally' forget her shirt, then thought better of it. She'd probably kick his ass.

And she could, too.

* * *

The journey through the tunnel was a long and slow one. Sirius kept stopping to sniff things out, and Ana was starting to worry that he was lost. There were no twists and turns in the path that she could see, but she wasn't using her echo-locators either, for the sake of his nearby ears.

Dark thoughts of what may happen if Sirius' bloodlust returned before they managed to exit the tunnel played in her mind, and the longer they walked, the more nervous she got. Finally, she was squeaking every time he paused - she stopped when she heard his irritated grunt.

After what seemed like an eternity but couldn't have been more than an hour, Sirius bumped his muzzle against something wooden, and Ana could hear the familiar creak of wind through branches and could detect a sliver of moonlight around Sirius' form.

Sirius sat back on his haunches, almost upsetting her purchase on his fur with her claws, and set her clothing and pack aside. Then he carefully snuck one paw out of opening and seemed to be searching for something. The creaking sound stopped and he chuffed once, a happy sound. He resumed his grip on her belongings and squeezed out of the gap that seemed to open around him.

Ana was astonished to see that they were underneath a large willow tree on the grounds of a large castle estate.

'_This must be Hogwarts,_' she thought to herself as Sirius darted into the shadows that ran around the outer edge of the school. He followed the shadows until he got to a cliff, over which the huge castle towered, then picked his way down along an old forgotten trail until they were standing on a stony beach in a cavern underneath the gigantic structure. At the mouth of the cavern was a row of hanging vines which they ducked under, then made their way towards the back, along the narrow path of loose stones set against the wall, to where a dilapidated dock stood beside a winding, narrow stone staircase.

There were dozens of small tipsy-looking boats moored to the dock and more than one set of glistening wet footprints leading upwards along the stair. Somebody - or rather, a few somebodies - had gotten a major soaker.

Sirius inched his way up the staircase towards a heavy oak door, and there paused. He dropped the clothing once again and abruptly stood up on two legs, hands coming around his shoulder to pull Ana gently from his shirt and cradle her close to his chest.

"This door will lead us to the Front Hall," he whispered in the dark to the bat in his hands. "Would you rather get dressed here? Or take our chances as bat and dog?"

Ana pondered for a moment before flapping out of his hands and burrowing into her clothing, which lay in a pile on the floor. He seemed reluctant to let her go, but she figured that was because he didn't want to drop her by accident. She got herself aligned with her shirt and transformed back into her human shape. She pulled her pants up over her lap quickly to hide her nakedness.

When she looked up at him, it appeared as if Sirius had attempted to turn away, but the lech had outstripped the gentleman and his head was craned over his shoulder.

"God, I wish we could communicate some other way," Ana sighed as she readjusted and jeans around her waist. "Listen, I think it would be best if you go and found Harry and stayed with him for the night. That way I can go see my friend and get this settled. Bada-bing bada-boom, we'll be outta here by morning."

"Go see Harry?"

Ana shrugged. "I just needed help getting here. Thanks. I would have asked Remus, but I figured you'd want to see Harry, is all."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "And that's the only reason why you asked me to come, instead?"

"Yeah."

She chewed on her bottom lip as his eyes narrowed.

Sirius crouched down to be eye-to-eye with her. "You're trying to keep something from me, aren't you?"

"W-what?" she said, leaning away from him. Sirius' smile got wider and his eyes took on a dark sheen.

"You're keeping secrets, you and Moony, I know."

Ana shook her head. "Sirius, don't be absurd. I just need to talk to my friend, then we can leave."

"You never told me why we're here in the first place. Is it just to see this friend of yours?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you need me? You could have come alone."

Ana shook her head. "It's faster like this. Please, don't be difficult, Sirius. Just... go. Go see Harry."

Sirius' eyes widened. "You're trying to get rid of me."

"I am not!" Ana retorted in a tone which she hoped conveyed righteous anger. She didn't want him to hear her fear – she _was_ afraid of him. Afraid that what had happened in the cemetery would happen again. She had brought Sirius here for her friend to examine, but now that something was seriously wrong, she didn't want him too close to herself. "Don't be absurd. It's just not _safe_ for you to be wandering around the school when you're still wanted fo--"

"Oh, but I suppose it's okay for you to flap your merry way around. You have no idea how to get to where your friend is, even if you wanted to. You've never been inside Hogwarts before, and you're a Vampire Ana, and when you get to where you're going, you'll be a NAKED Vampire."

He had a point, although Ana didn't want to admit it.

"Fine," she conceded. "We'll go together."

Sirius sat back and smiled. "There, see? Didn't hurt at all, did it?" He reached out to touch her cheek and Ana recoiled from him before she had even realized she had moved. He froze and stared at her, eyes wide and slightly hurt. "Ana, what's wrong? Are you... mad at me?"

"Don't be silly," she said, yet looked away.

"You're mad that I kissed you."

"I,.. Sirius, no..."

"It's Remus, isn't it. You and Remus."

"Me and ... whatsis?" Ana gaped at him.

"That's what all this secrecy is about. You and Remus, you have a 'thing' and I'm in the middle, aren't I?"

Ana stared at him, gaping like a landed fish. Then she broke out laughing. "Me! M-me and R-Remus...! Ha!"

Sirius growled low in his chest. "It's not funny!"

"Sirius," she chuckled and her smile was the first genuine one Sirius had seen on her face since before she had plunged the knife into his shoulder. Ana had seemed contemplative and slightly sad ever since she had almost accidentally killed him. Even though they were friends now, even though he had forgiven her, even though he could make her laugh, Sirius still saw sadness in her eyes. Until now. "Sirius, I've only met Remus twice. Once in the Cauldron, once in the cemetery tonight. There is nothing between me and your friend."

"Okay then," Sirius conceded, but was still puzzled as to why she wasn't letting him touch her. "Then what secret are you keeping from me?"

She sobered up. The sadness came back. "That, I can't tell you," she looked down at her hands, where they were knotted in her lap. "I'm sorry, Sirius."

"Fine," he said and leaned forward until he was on all fours, his hands on either side of her hips. "But you have to promise to tell me after we leave Hogwarts, or else."

"O-or else what?" Ana asked, studying his face closely for any signs of the bloodmadness.

"Or else I'll kiss you again," he said and began to lean towards her.

Ana closed her eyes, preparing to lift her hands and shove him away the minute his lips touched hers. It wasn't safe, no after what had happened earlier, not without knowing what was going on. Instead, the feel of a large wet tongue lapping across her mouth and cheek startled her.

She yelped and opened her eyes to see Sirius standing over her, smiling a great tongue-lolling doggie smile, in his mutt form.

"You're a jerk, you know that?" she said and wriggled back, away from him. But there was a smile on her face. She reached up and inched the door open enough that Sirius would be able to nose his way out of it. "I need to go to the Headmaster's Office."

Sirius let out a little whine of confusion, but before Ana could answer she was already back in her bat form and crawling up his leg to sit on his ruff. He shook himself once, scooped up her discarded clothing, and was off.

They managed to bypass the mess of children and house elves in the Great Hall and Dining room, although the sent of fresh feast was tantalizing enough to Sirius that she had to nip his ear once to remind him that they were headed elsewhere.

He hopped gracefully around the missing and trick steps of the main staircase and dodged notice of most of the paintings. Ana, who had never really spent more than a month or two in anywhere that was really Wizarding, stared at the moving portraits and landscapes with awe. Twice they almost literally ran into one of the resident Ghosts and it was all Ana could do not to let out a squeal of terror.

Vampire or not, she wasn't accustomed to other supernatural beings of any sort.

It freaked her out, being able to see _through_ someone.

Somewhere around the fourth floor, Sirius took an abrupt right and started pacing up and down the hall. Ana was confused as to why, but then, it was a Wizard's building, and a lot of things were confusing.

Eventually he turned into a door and pawed it open, slipped in, and shut it behind him. It was dark and ill-lit, but was filled from wall to wall with hundreds of comfortable looking pillows. Ana took to the air to look around, and only found walls draped in tapestries and no windows.

This couldn't possibly be the Headmaster's Office, could it?

The sound of the lock clicking, made Ana whirl around in mid air and drop carefully to the pillow below her. Sirius was in his human form. He had left her clothing in a pile beside the threshold and was advancing slowly on her, his hands out to catch her.

On his face was an expression of longing.

He lunged and she dodged, but his long arms gave him the advantage and she was trapped in a cage of his fingers.

"Change back," he said, his voice a low hissing murmur of lust and pain. He didn't sound like Sirius at all. He sounded like the _thing_ from the graveyard. He shook her once, and it made her head spin. "Change back, you callus bitch, and give me what I want..."

Ana did change back, but only to allow herself use of hands, voice, and feet. Sirius was anticipating the change and he threw her body back into the pillows and dropped down on top of her to keep her pinned.

"Get off me!" she shrieked, and pushed against his shoulders, but Sirius threw his weight down onto her hips and straddled her, hands scrabbling to gain purchase on her arms.

"Give me the blood!" he howled at her as one of her hands came up to rake across his face. He jerked back his head just in time and her nails just grazed the skin. "Give it to me!"

Ana managed to grab a handful of his shirt and tried to haul him to one side, attempting to put him off balance. Sirius jerked his body in the opposite direction and the fabric tore.

"Mr. Black!" a low, deep voice called out authoritatively, and Sirius froze, spittle on his lips and the red glow back in his eyes. "That is no way for a gentleman to behave. Off her immediately!"

"Stay out of this!" Sirius snarled back and Ana struggled to look around him, to see who was standing at the door.

"Forgive me, my friend," the voice said softly and something was twinged in her memory. "_Stupefy_."

There was a bright flash of red light, and Sirius went rigid and toppled off of her. Ana scrambled to cover herself with the pillows. A muttered word from the voice and Ana found herself clothed in a thick set of green robes, her own jeans and turtleneck underneath.

She stood up and ran fingers hastily through her hair to look up into the sparkling blue eyes of her saviour.

"Hallo, Albus," she said sheepishly. "You've changed. I like the glasses."

He chuckled and came forward to wrap his thin hands around hers. "Hallo, Ana," he said softly, and leaned down to plant a sweet and lingering kiss on her cheek. "You haven't changed at all."


	8. Revelations

Part Eight: "Revelations "

* * *

Ana looked down from her seat at the unconscious Sirius Black laying face up on the floor next to her.

"Don't you think we should take him somewhere more comfortable? A bed, maybe?"

Albus Dumbledore paused in his puttering and humming to laugh lightly. It was a high and reedy sound, full of life and light. "Ana, my love, Sirius has spent many a night on far harder surfaces. The floor of my office suits our purpose perfectly. If we were to transport him elsewhere, I would fear one of the students catching us. First day feast sugar rushes, you know."

Ana shook her head and leaned back in her chair, taking in the oddities of the office around her. "You," she said after a silence wherein Albus had gone back to perusing his various tomes, "the Headmaster of Hogwarts. I suppose I ought to be surprised, but, I mean, its you, and I'm surprised you're not the Minister of Magic yet, 'cause I'd heard it from Harry that Fudge – Albus! Is that the–!"

She climbed to her feet and jogged up the stairs behind his desk to peer at the large brass telescope aimed at the heavens. She ran her hands across it warmly, a wide smile revealing her sharp little eyeteeth.

"The telescope you gave me on our five year anniversary - yes."

Ana whistled low. "You've taken good care of this monster... barely a nick on her." There was a clacking squawk from outside and Ana managed to duck just in time to avoid getting hit in the head by a Phoenix flying in the window. "And Fawkes! Good to see you too, mate!"

The phoenix settled on the rail and accepted a pat on the head from the Vampire.

The bird trilled at her gently before swooping around her head to settle on his perch next to Albus' desk. Ana looked down over the railing to see Albus sitting at the desk with a large book unfolded.

"Ana, dear, you should come look at this," he said and without hesitation she swung one foot over the railing and dropped to the floor by his side, which set him on another fit of chuckling. She leaned into his arm and bopped his head lightly.

"I haven't seen you since 1947, and _you're_ going to spend the whole time laughing at me?"

Albus sucked on his moustache for a moment before reaching into the pocket of his cloak and extracting a blood lollipop and a lemondrop. He popped the lemondrop into his mouth and Ana accepted the sucker. She tore off the wrapper and slipped it into her mouth.

She took a suck, then extricated the lollipop and waved it at him. "I blame you for my addiction to these things."

"Sweets are a wonderful thing to be addicted to."

"Funny how you used to make that sound so dirty."

"My dear, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Alright, alright, evasion will do for now," Ana contented herself with saying before giving him a warm hug, and kept her arms wrapped around his shoulders. "I missed you, Albus."

The elder Wizard smiled and patted her arm gently. "I missed you too, Ana."

She pecked his cheek lightly before turning to the book before them. She barely had time to read the first sentence before she heard a groan. They both peered over the desk to see Sirius sitting up slowly, his head in his hands.

"Ana...?" he said slowly, sitting up as if he was sore and stiff. "Ana? Where are we? And why do I have no shirt on?" He looked up. "And why are you snogging with Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Ana jumped away from Albus. "I'm not snogging him!"

Again, the old Wizard chuckled. "Just recalling our glory days."

Sirius made a face, like he couldn't believe that he was about to ask the question he was about to ask - "Glory days?"

"Albus and I ..." Ana trailed off and looked away, here cheeks flushing red.

Albus cleared his throat delicately and coughed once. "Miss Oldwyn and I were... together for several years."

"Together?" Sirius echoed dumbly. "As in, _together_ together?"

"We decided that we would be better off friends after the incident with Grindelwald," Ana said softly. She turned to look at Albus with tears at the bottom of her eyes. "Sure you're not regretting it?"

Albus smiled too, but his smile held just as much sadness as hers. "For the three-thousand-and sixty-fourth time... every day, my dear." He reached out and took her hand and kissed the back of it. "But would a sweet young girl like you possibly do with an old codger like me now, hmn?"

Ana nodded as if expecting this answer then fingered the hair poking out from his cap fondly. "Where did all that lovely red hair go?"

"I keep expecting Fawkes to bring me some next time, and he never does. I think he's still mad that I didn't share the fire-flavoured Bertie Botts."

Sirius cleared his throat loudly and once again Ana sprang away from Albus, as if suddenly remembering that the other Wizard was even there. She looked like a kid who'd be caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"Okay, that's cute in a weird sort of way," Sirius said, pulling himself to his feet, then settled into the cushy chair Ana had been occupying earlier, "and I really hate to break up the reunion, but could someone _please_ tell me why I have no shirt on?"

Albus came around the table to drop the book he and Ana were looking at into Sirius' lap. "Please read that passage, there -" he tapped a gnarled finger on the top of the page, "out loud, if you don't mind."

Sirius exchanged a glance with Ana, then read:

_...victim of a Vampire's bite will have either two reactions (assuming that said victim is not turned into a Vampire by his or her attacker). First, the victim shall either die of blood loss or, secondly, the enzymes in the saliva of the Vampire will begin a process known as 'integration', where the blood of the victim slowly becomes infected with the Vampire's natural poison. Gone unchecked, the victim will seem to fully recover (a side effect of the healing properties of Vampire blood) before slowly sinking into a sort of madness caused by an involuntary survival instinct. The more contact made between the Vampire and his victim at the time of the bite, the faster 'Integration' will occur. _

_As the enzyme travels the victim's system (often traceable by the blackening of the veins surrounding the original wound made by the bite), the brain will be flooded by an intense and blinding need to complete the 'turning' process - the victim will unconsciously seek out and assault the closest Vampire in an effort to drink their blood and complete the change between human and Vampire. Victims often loose consciousness during the bouts of this temporary insanity and awaken with no recollection of their activities. _

_If the victim is unable to complete the change before the poisons in the Vampire saliva gain purchase in the body, the victim will die. To date, no known cures have been discovered, once the disease has begun to spread. For treatment of a Vampire bite within three hours of the attack, refer to page 653._

The book slid through Sirius' numb fingers and hit the carpet.

Even the normally rowdy portraits were silenced.

"Remus knew," Sirius whispered, hands limp on his knees, eyes staring at nothing. "Remus figured it out, and that's why he sent me here."

"I'm sorry," Ana said softly, and he slid his eyes to hers. She had moved around the desk to stand in front of Sirius, her hands half extended as if she had just only caught herself reaching out to him. The tears that had been standing in her eyes earlier were now coursing down her face. "I didn't know, oh god, I didn't know. I'm so sorry, Sirius."

"There, now," Albus said in a comforting voice. He stood gently and wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

"I should have made him tell me," Ana hissed, "I should have made that_ bastard _tell me everything."

"Bastard?" Sirius asked, rubbing his hands up and down his arms absently, shell-shocked. He wanted something besides what he'd just read, the words swimming around in his brain, to focus on, so he focussed on Ana.

"Her Sire," Albus replied in hushed tones. "He abandoned her. He left her with practically no knowledge of what she was and how she was to function. He left her alone, in the Muggle world, with no instruction and no warnings."

"Bastard," Sirius agreed. Then he looked down at himself.

The black _had_ spread. He had been denying it, but it had. The veins all over his torso and chest were already black, and it had begun to creep past his elbows. He could see one line vanish underneath the waist-band of his pants and tried not to think about where it ended up. His hands and legs were blessedly clear, as was most of his face and the far side of his neck.

"How... how long do you reckon I have?"

Albus shook his head. "I can't say. A few days, at most." He withdrew from Ana and with a wave of his wand, placed the fallen tome back on his desk. "You two have a lot to talk about. I'll send up the house elves, as I suspect that you've had no supper tonight."

Ana nodded her thanks, and Sirius eyes fixed on nothing in particular, the middle space above the Headmaster's head.

Once the door was closed, Sirius hauled his chair over to the fire place and sat down again, staring into the flames. He felt a heavy cloak drop over his shoulders and looked up to see that Ana had removed hers and draped it around him.

"Come, sit with me," he said softly.

"Sirius," Ana said softly. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why? Because of the black?"

"…no."

"Because of … Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"What? No!"

Sirius sighed and resisted throwing up his arms. "Then, what?"

"I… don't… I don't think that, maybe, we …"

Sirius' whole body slumped slightly. "I just want to hold you, I promise." This time she accepted his proffered lap. Ana sat on his thigh and crooked her own knees over the arm rest of the chair. Sirius buried his nose in her hair as she leaned to the side and into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around her and clasped his hands on her hip. "I want to kiss you, but I fear that I must pale in comparison to the Supreme Mugwump."

Ana chuckled weakly. "Albus and I broke up a long time ago."

"Why?"

There was a pause as she considered answering his question or not. "Because he wasn't prepared to live in darkness, and I wasn't prepared to watch him die. It seems like a ridiculous reason, but that's what it was. Instead of treasuring the time we had, we ... squabbled."

Sirius sighed. "I don't have the same freedom of choice."

With a shuddering intake of breath, Ana started to sob again and Sirius pulled her closer, until her face was buried in his shoulder, her back hitching erratically with gasps even as he ran soothing hands down it.

"Shhh, shhhh. I'm not blaming you."

"I'm so sorry, _so sorry_... if I had known... acted faster..."

He sighed again and kissed her cheek. "I have a few days to think about it, don't I? A few more days before those insanity spells kick in, right?" Ana stiffened and Sirius pulled back to look her in the face. "They've started already?" She nodded. He touched her chin gently with his fingertips. "But I don't remember - I should remember, right? I mean, remember waking up or something."

"You didn't slip on the grass." The silence after her whispered words made Ana wonder if he'd heard them, but when she looked up she saw real fear in Sirius' eyes. "You didn't slip on the grass in the cemetery in Cottinshire."

"The scratches on your shoulder?"

"Your nails."

"Oh my god, Ana..."

"You didn't hurt me."

"And... and just now? I mean, when I woke up on the floor...?"

"I asked you to take me here, and instead we went to ... Albus called it the Room of Requirement."

"I don't remember you asking me."

"What do you remember?"

"We were... sitting outside the oak door at the top of the stairs - nothing after that."

Ana shivered once and Sirius mistook her fear for cold and pulled her close again, wrapping part of the emerald green cloak around them both. Beside them the fire crackled. The portraits absented themselves discreetly. Sirius and Ana sat that way for a long moment, each lost in their thoughts and the feel of the other's body against their own. There was a soft moment of Sirius's breath wafting against Ana's collarbones, before Ana finally pulled away.

Sirius was only slightly miffed, because he had only then decided to try making a move. Despite his upcoming possible demise, she was still beautiful, and he was still a hot-blooded man. He let his hands fall onto the armrests and Ana slipped off his thighs and stood. He allowed himself a brief glance at her ass in the jeans as she moved over to the bookshelves.

He watched from the chair as Ana browsed Albus' shelves and plucked a few texts from their places. She returned to the fireplace, hauling over the other chair, and gave him half the books.

"We still have time," she said. Her voice was soft and low, but grave. "We'll find a way to make it go away."

"I've been through Azkaban, and the other side of the Veil," he said, trying to reassure her. "I can get through this." Secretly though, he had his doubts. The first textbook had said nothing could be done after the first three hours.

This was only going to end one of two ways, and Sirius wasn't sure which seemed the better option right then.

Ana only nodded, and opened the first of her books. There had to be _some_thing in this vast library about reversing the effects of a Vampire bite - this was Hogwarts after all.

* * *

When the house elves arrived with their respective hot meals, they sipped or ate, and read in silence.

About three o'clock in the morning, Ana looked over her fifth book to see Sirius asleep on top of his. Fearing what drool could do to an ancient tome, she laid her research aside and gently pried the book from under his cheek. She set it on the floor, then turned back to him.

For a moment she stood still and watched him sleep.

His face was buried in his arms, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair and his forearms on his knees. His mouth was parted slightly, and she could see a sliver of white behind his lips. The green cloak had slipped down his arm, leaving one strong shoulder and half of his torso uncovered.

In the warm glow of the fireplace, his skin looked bronzed and healthy. The black in his veins seemed almost to vanish.

If only it were that easy.

"I've set up a room for him in the dungeon," Albus whispered over her shoulder, and Ana turned slowly to face him. She hadn't heard him arrive, but he didn't startle her. "It's fairly sound proof, in case he gets another attack, but it's warm and dry. There's a bed down there."

"Thank you, Albus," she said and went up on her tiptoes to give him a lingering kiss on the cheek. "For all of it."

He held her close for a moment. "For you, how could I do any less?"

Albus flooed himself and Sirius down to the room, then returned for Ana. She reminded him of how much she absolutely loathed "that fireplace crap", but he reminded her that there was no other way for them to get to the basement unseen, and she relented and endured the ordeal with eyes screwed shut and her hands fisted into the front of his purple robe.

Albus helped her settle Sirius on the bed, then stood, and with the familiar twinkle in his eye said, "Well, it's about time all good Headmasters were in dreamland, so I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave Mr. Black in your care, my dear."

She nodded, "Good night, Albus." And with a flash of green fire, he was gone.

Ana sighed and looked down on the bed at Sirius. She sat beside him and reached out to gently brush a strand of long dark hair off his forehead and tuck it behind his ear.

His expression was smooth, open… trusting.

It made something inside of her ache.

The touch wakened Sirius slightly, and he opened one bleary eye at her. "Mmm? Ana?"

"You fell asleep on one of Albus' very priceless books - we've put you to bed."

"Oh. S'comfy." He tried to roll over and got tangled briefly in the sheets. Ana reached out and helped him wriggle out of his boots and leather pants, leaving his boxer shorts, and draped the cloak over him as he snuggled into the blankets.

She stood up to go and Sirius' hand shot out from under the sheets - she turned to look at him, fearing to see the red glow behind his eyes. Instead she saw an imploring look from grey ones. "Stay here?" he said softly. "I... I don't want to be ... I'm... scared."

She sighed and sat down on the side of the bed again, which seemed to satisfy Sirius enough for him to drop his head back to his pillow. She toed off her own shoes and slipped out of her jeans, leaving her undergarments and shirt on, and settled herself.

Sirius reached out again and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her down, under the covers, beside him. He spooned up behind her back, resting his head on her shoulder, his arm still around her waist.

Ana sighed and relaxed back into him.

For tonight, she didn't mind being his barrier against fear.

As a Vampire, she needed far less sleep than he, and so spent the next few hours holding him closer than she really meant to, wondering if she would awaken to the feel of his teeth piercing her skin.

* * *

At breakfast, Dumbledore came to fetch Sirius and brought him to his office where they had a private meal. Ana opted to stay in Sirius' room a little longer to give them privacy, and to avoid having to deal with the nauseating foodsmell. She didn't like the greasy feel of the scent of cooking food, which is why she had always fed Sirius and Harry sandwiches and easily prepared dishes at her house.

When she thought she had given them enough time to eat, Ana chose to navigate the school in bat form.

She hated to floo and it seemed wiser than just wandering around the corridors, a lost trespasser dressed like a Muggle.

It wasn't as easy as she'd hoped, but she knew he was in the highest tower so she just kept going upwards. After a few false tries that had landed her in Gryffindor Tower and at the classroom of the Divinations' teacher, and a blistering trip from one window to another out in the bright daylight, Ana found it.

She flew in the window and landed on the desk between them.

Dumbledore was in the process of telling Sirius that he had made sure that the Ministry was no longer able to attempt to expel Harry from Hogwarts for doing underaged magic. Empty plates sat on his desk and each man was clutching a mug of coffee.

He paused in his explanation long enough to lift Ana off the desk and carry her into his private rooms at the head of the staircase. He returned to his seat, resuming his explanation, as Ana recovered from the sun and donned the robes he had laid out on his bed for her.

They were bright purple and a mite too big, but they were better than nothing.

She came out of the room just as Dumbledore was explaining that Harry had used a _Petrificas Totalus_ spell on her earlier in the summer. Ana remembered, although he had never said anything about letters of expulsion from Hogwarts. Dumbledore had convinced Minister Fudge that Harry ought to be an exception to the rule, as he was now a very open target and a very capable duellist. Dumbledore had hated making Harry the exception to any rule, as he felt Harry would prefer it if he was treated normally, but Fudge had been happy enough to comply.

Anything to make the Ministry look like it trusted Harry Potter again.

Ana settled into a chair beside the fire, wrapping Albus' proffered robes around her. She snuggled into both the robe and the chair and marvelled how little Albus' scent had changed in fifty years. He still liked sweets, she could tell, and there was the comforting hint of parchment and ink, and something else that was just plain Albus. But underneath all that was age, and mortality, and the reminder that he was no longer the young man she had loved fifty years ago.

The scent of age made her slightly queasy and she stopped thinking about it, forcing her mind to focus once more on Sirius and Albus' conversation. They were prattling fairly mindlessly, about stuff that didn't seem all that important - stuff to keep Sirius' mind off of the conversation she would inevitably have to have with him today.

She was not looking forward to it.

* * *

After breakfast, Sirius in his dogform and Ana in her bat had made their way back to Sirius' room in the dungeon. Ana had changed back into her own clothing and they had returned to Albus' office to continue their research. Albus'd had several books from the restricted section of the library sent up.

They had been avoiding talking about the growing blackness all day, and at times there were awkward pauses. Sirius filled them by getting her up to date with his various Hogwarts-year pranks over the piles research books they had built in a make-shift academic barricade around them on the floor of the Headmaster's office. She was told that the victim of many of said pranks was indeed the Potions Master at the school now, and Ana decided that one day she'd like to meet this Severus Snape; no one could really be as horrible as all that, could they?

When the dinner bell had been rung, and all the students and staff were safely in the Great Hall, Ana and Sirius left the school to wander the grounds together. They kept to the Forbidden Forest where the deep shadows of the trees protected Ana from the sun.

Sometime after the student's dinner, Ana and Sirius emerged from the Forbidden Forest, where he had been showing her the old paths that he and his friends Moony and Prongs had once trod. She noticed that he purposefully did not include Wormtail in the listing of friends, but chose not to comment.

There had not been any relapses of the blood-madness yet that day, which made Ana both happy and nervous - it was going to happen sometime, and she tried to remain prepared for it. But the fact that it had not happened yet could also mean that now he was aware of it, Sirius had been fighting it back.

They had yet to find a cure among the pages of Albus' texts, and Madam Pomfrey, the school medi-Witch, had no ideas how to cure it either. She had been in after lunch to examine Sirius, and had told them there was nothing she could do to reverse the effects. Pomfrey had also taken a sample of Ana's saliva for analysis, but there was no guarantee that the spit would be the key to the cure, either.

In their reading, they had discovered that there existed a potion that could delay the spreading, the 'integration' process, but not stop it. Sirius had out and out refused to drink anything that Snape boiled up.

He protested that if the potion wouldn't keep him from dying, then there was no point in letting Snape poison him.

As they walked along the shadow-filled edge of the line of trees, Sirius was about to finish a sentence when he looked up over the Quidditch pitch and paused. Ana followed his line of sight to see several scarlet-clad shapes fluttering by. Sirius shoved his hands in his pockets and tilted his chin up, eyes narrowed to focus on the little red blurs.

"Is that Quidditch?" she asked softly, jolting him from his staring-reverie.

"Just a practice," he murmured. "See, there's Ron and his little sister Ginny, and ... over there, see the sunset glancing off his glasses? That's Harry."

"Harry's on the Quidditch team?"

Sirius nodded, a look of pride in his eyes. "He's the Gryffindor Seeker."

"Is that a good position?"

Sirius turned to look at her, then leaned back against a tree and slid down the bark until he was sitting against its base of tangled roots. Ana crouched to join him. "A good Seeker can make or break a game."

Ana nodded. "And Harry's good?"

"Harry's the best. Just like his Dad."

"… you miss his Dad?"

"Every day."

Ana was silent for a moment as Sirius pulled his knees up to his chin and looked down at his interlaced fingers. He closed his eyes briefly, shoving down memories, and Ana could see the faint tracings of black beginning to penetrate the veins on his eyelids.

Not much time left - one day, maybe two.

"Sirius..." she began slowly, and then trailed off. She had started and stopped this conversation so many times today already. How could she say this? How could she possibly broach this subject? What could she say that wasn't clichéd or contrite sounding? "Sirius," she tried again, taking a deep breath. "It's time that we... started to consider options."

Sirius lifted his eyes to the blurring streaks of scarlet in the distance. "They sure started practices early this year - first day of classes and they're out on the pitch already. Harry really wants that Quidditch Cup this year."

"Sirius," Ana said again, adding a tint of urgency to her tone.

"I know, I know," he sighed heavily and finally turned his eyes to her. They were grey pools of internal agony. "I just... this is so ..."

"Unfair?"

Sirius grunted and nodded once. "Yes. I haven't had anything even closely resembling a normal life... since my best friend died at the hand of what was supposed to be another of my friends... seventeen years I've been running, living in terror, in horror, experiencing my worst nightmares up close and personal... and now..." he glared up at the stars that were starting to come out. "Now this. I was born under an ill star. I swear to God the Universe is against me."

"Sirius, I'm sorry."

"I know. Not your fault." He resumed watching the Quidditch practice. "This is war and that's what happens to those who participate."

"Sirius, that's no excuse--"

He smiled at her weakly and lifted one hand to cup her cheek. "I'm a victim of war. That's all. I think Harry's gotten the raw end of the deal, though. I was supposed to _be_ there for him. I was supposed to protect him and take care of him and ... instead he thought for most of his life that he was a worthless, freakish burden, and then that I killed his parents, my best friends, and then I can't be there for him 'cause I'm on the lamb, and then dead, and now... now I'm going to be a freakin' Vampire." He laughed mirthlessly and dropped his hand back to his side. "The only people in the world he has to rely on are a Werewolf and a Vampire."

"Two Vampires," Ana corrected, placing a gentle hand on Sirius' shoulder. "And by this I assume you've made your choice?"

Sirius nodded and kept his eyes on Harry, in the distance. "It's not fair to go away again on Harry. I left him when his parents died. I left when he was in third year. I left when I fell through the Veil. Well, goddamnit, I'm not leaving him again."

Ana sighed. "That's very admirable of you Sirius, but don't forget... if you choose to become as I am, then you'll be losing a lot. No more sunny days. No more real food. No more simple relationships with humans. You have to hunt stealthily for your sustenance and no matter what kind of a great person you may be, Wizards and Witches will still want to kill you for simply existing. You'll exist in the shadows, hunted, hated, alone."

Sirius chuckled. "Doesn't sound too different from the way I live now."

Ana placed a finger under his chin and forced him to look her in the eye. "You will have to watch Harry die, some day."

Sirius blinked and looked down. "... I know."

"And Remus."

"I know."

"And you're okay with that?"

"While Harry's alive, I want to be there for him. And maybe it's selfish of me but... there's a war coming, Ana. A big one. Maybe the _final_ one. And I... I want an advantage. I have a lot of revenge that needs handing out - I don't mind giving up the sun if it means it will make me harder to kill while I'm doing it."

Ana said nothing for a long while, sucking on her bottom lip.

Then, slowly, he lifted herself up on her knees and pressed a soft kiss to Sirius' lips.

"I can't say that I entirely approve of your reasons," she said as she pulled back just far enough to be able to look him in the eye. "But the choice is yours to make and you've made it." She kissed him again, softly and this time he kissed her back.

Ana pulled away before it got too involved and stood, then helped him to his feet. "Let's get you back into the warmth," she said softly. "I don't want to do it here."

Sirius nodded and changed into his dog form. The fur on his body hid the black in his veins. Ana stripped quickly, for once not minding if Sirius' eyes lingered, and wadded up her clothing into a pile the dog would be able to carry in his mouth.

Then she also shifted forms and flew beside Sirius as he padded quietly towards the castle, slipping in and out of the shadows like the Grimm he resembled. None of the students seemed to notice a dog and a bat making their way down into a disused section of the dungeons.

"No, no, no, I absolutely refuse to use that damned fireplace," Ana said adamantly, crossing her hands over her chest in a defensive gesture.

"Don't make me fight with you," Sirius said, his tone betraying some of his weariness. "I don't have the energy right now."

And indeed, he didn't appear as if he did. He was leaning against the fireplace's front piece, in the secluded dungeon room at Hogwarts, and it appeared as if he'd fall right over if he let go. The walk through the Forbidden Forest and back to the school had been harder on Sirius than he would admit, and the poison from the Vampire bite was starting to make him sluggish and irritable. In a day, maybe two if he was lucky, it would start to cause pain and convulsions and eventually, death.

Sirius gave her a look that he must have perfected in his puppy form, because it had the same effect of a doggie banging its tail on the ground half-heartedly, hoping against hope that you will, right this very instant, take him on that walk he wants so very much. Ana steeled herself against it.

"No, I hate flooing, Sirius," she insisted and he abruptly slumped to the floor, appearing as if someone had just performed the Jelly-legs curse on him. "Sirius!" she cried and lunged off the bed to catch him. She sat back against the wall and let him slip down in her arms so he was sitting between her legs, his head back against her shoulder, his arms sprawled on either side of her legs.

He forced a smile and, between panting breaths which began to sound alarmingly constrained, said, "I just... I want to ... go back home... to... I want Moony..." The bottom of his eyes began to gather moisture and a blink sent one tear rolling slowly down his cheek. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to sit up, which for him, in his current state, had become a mighty effort.

He had seemed _fine_ in the Forest - a bit more tired than he should have been, but otherwise fine. The suddenness of this exhaustion had Ana very anxious.

"Sirius, you shouldn't push yourself," Ana said quietly, but didn't interfere. He needed to prove that he was not dependant on her, and she wouldn't press it.

He paused once he was upright, panting more heavily. "Ana, Ana, please..." he said softly, and that was that. Ana sighed and stood, lifting him under the arms and pulling him closely against her side to keep him upright. He leaned back against her with more weight than she was expecting and they toppled to the left. She managed to get her arm up and they bashed heavily against the mantelpiece.

"Ouch," she muttered and hoisted him towards the fireplace. She wrapped one arm around his torso awkwardly to free up her other hand. Dipping her free hand into the floo powder that sat in a convenient self-replenishing pot on the top of the fireplace, she pulled Sirius and herself into the cold grate. "Alright, Sirius - where are we going?"

His head lolled back and she was alarmed to see that his eyes had rolled backwards into his head. "Sirius!" she yelled at him and shook him. "Sirius, don't you fucking do this on me now. Sirius!"

His jaw hung slack and she could see that the black had now filled every vein in his face. His eyelids were fluttering, twitching, and his fingers were shivering. "Sirius! _Sirius_!"

He moaned once, a long and rattling sound and collapsed back against her fully.

"_SIRIUS!"_

Her resounding shriek was echoed by the loud bang of the dungeon door slamming backwards. Albus Dumbledore filled the archway, light streaming into the dim lamp-light of the room in shafts around him. Ana blinked against the sharp arrows of light and pressed her forehead against Sirius's shoulder to shade her eyes.

"Albus, help me," she said, desperation in her tone, "Get his feet, get him on the bed."

"I'll do better, my sweet," he said softly and moved with quick even steps to her side. Leaning around Sirius, he pressed a sweet and lingering kiss to her lips. "Take good care of him, my lost love. He was meant for you, I think." He pulled some floo-powder out of the pot and threw it down by her feet.

"Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place!" he said.


	9. Secret No More

Part Nine: "Secret No More"

* * *

Ana remembered in an instant why she hated flooing.

She and Sirius appeared in the fireplace of this mysterious "Grimmauld Place" with a green flash and a bang that startled her - she sucked in a breath of air and got a mouthful of ashes for her trouble.

She coughed, tried to get a better grip on Sirius, slipped on a nearby log, and the two of them when tumbling out of the grate and onto the carpets.

"Ashes, ashes ashes!" screamed a little greeny-brown ugly thing that stood nearby and Ana looked up at it and screamed.

"It's only a house elf!" came another voice and Ana looked in the other direction to see Remus Lupin hauling Sirius up off the floor. He was pulling the unconscious man up under his arms. There were indeed ashes smeared all over the carpets, as well as all up one side of Sirius' slack face. "Kreacher, be useful and help me get your Master to his bedroom!"

The house-elf, Kreacher, muttered, but did as he was told and grabbed Sirius by the ankles. The two of them hauled Sirius out of the room and Ana scrambled to her feet to follow them. She was alternately awed and wary of the amazing, ancient house that stood around her. It was large and opulently decorated, but held an air of just-swept-out dustiness and a sort of sense of sorrow and urgency filled the rooms with a wild manic energy.

The colours of the drapery, rugs, and wallpapers were all faded and greyed with layers of grime and years of neglect.

It smelled of people, dozens of sweating, frightened, angry, determined people. The air was rank with the smell, even though the people were long gone. Some of the people she recognized by scent - Harry, Ron, Hermione, Arthur, Remus, Sirius, Albus - some she didn't.

The house was old. Very old. Probably almost as old as she was.

The ceilings were high and the walls dark and covered with tapestries. Some of them were ancient, some looking brand new and almost garish with their fresh colours next to the old, faded ones. She followed the two men and the house elf out of the parlour where they had arrived and down a hallway. There was a great, sort-of-but-not-really square cut out of the wall that looked very unfinished, and she wondered at its purpose.

It looked like someone had taken a chainsaw to the wall. Someone who didn't know how to cut a in straight line.

"Remus, where are we?" She said as she followed him up the long, narrow stairs and towards the back of the house through another close hallway.

"This is Grimmauld Place," Remus panted slightly, kicking the last door on the left slightly so it swung open. He and Kreacher turned into the room and Ana followed. It was the most wonderfully decorated of all the rooms they'd passed.

A large, grand fireplace stood against the right wall, a fire already crackling merrily in the grate. The floor was a honey coloured hardwood, spattered with autumnal coloured throw rugs. The wall opposite the door held a large picturesque window overlooking a half dead garden, with a built-in settee. Against the left wall stood a large four-poster bed of cherry wood and dark covers, into which the house-elf and the Werewolf were tucking Sirius, and a wardrobe and bureau of the same wood. In the far right corner, between the window and the fireplace stood a very disorganized cherry wood desk.

Remus brushed the hair away from Sirius' forehead, then straightened and looked at Ana. "This is Sirius' home."

"Is this Sirius' room?" Ana asked, breath taken.

Remus chuckled and sat on the edge of the bed. "Kreacher, fetch a basin of hot water and a cloth, a pitcher of cold water and a cup, and start some soup, please." The house-elf muttered darkly, but did as he was told. Remus then turned his wolf-eyes to Ana. "Yes, this is Sirius' room. Albus told me you were coming - I had expected you to come from that fireplace, though." He pointed to the fireplace on the opposite wall.

Ana came to sit on the edge of the bed opposite him and stare at Sirius. He shivered once, violently, and she pulled the covers up around his neck.

Remus stood and came around the bed to peer at his best friend over her shoulder. "He won't last much longer."

Ana hung her head. "I know."

"What... what did he decide?"

Ana remained silent, contemplating.

"He did decide, didn't he?"

She bit her lip and fisted her hands in the covers. She looked down, tears shivering on the edge of her eyelashes. She did not let them fall.

"Ana?"

"He said yes," she said softly and Remus strained forward to hear her properly.

"Yes?"

"He said he wants it... he said... that he wouldn't abandon Harry again." She turned to look at him with the tears standing in her eyes. "He says… he wants revenge, too."

Remus closed his own eyes slowly, as if they suddenly hurt to be open. "I... see."

"Remus, I--"

He raised his hand. "If this is what Sirius wants, then you must give it to him, Ana."

"But--"

"You _must_."

Ana turned on the edge of the bed and stared at him. "Remus. You want me to kill your best friend?"

"He has asked a favour of you, Anathema. Don't deny him life when he so desperately wants it."

"It's not life."

"Don't split hairs."

"But... for revenge..."

"We're in a war."

"But--"

Again Remus raised his hand and cut her off. "I once loved a girl very much." He turned and walked slowly to a well-loved looking wingbacked chair by the fireplace. He settled himself into it slowly, as if every movement pained him. A scuffed cane rest against arm of the chair, and Ana had a feeling that this chair was Remus', even though it was in Sirius' room. He rubbed the scrubbly hair on his chin and took a deep breath. "We were together for our last two years at Hogwarts. I asked her to marry me. She said yes. Then I told her I was a Werewolf. She didn't hate me - in fact, she asked me to bite her. She loved me so much that she was willing to be cursed, like me."

Ana let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "What did you do?"

Remus let the question hang in the air. He released his breath, then took another and said, "I didn't bite her. I refused to allow her to become a monster as well."

Ana shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "Oh, Remus, you're not a monster."

"And neither are you, Ana. And neither will Sirius be. But I felt like it then." He gestured at the air as if banishing the cobwebs of sorrows long past. "Anyway, she left me. Just like that. She said that if I wouldn't allow her into all of my life, then she would find someone else who would. And she did. She married him soon after."

"What happened to her?"

"She and her husband were rendered... incapable. Mentally. A Death Eater attack ... made them ... crazy, childlike, whatever. Just like that. They're both in St. Mungo's now. Their son is a classmate of Harry's."

Ana started to stand. "Remus, I'm sorry."

The Werewolf hauled himself up from the chair and walked over to her. He lifted her chin with a finger to force her to meet his eyes. "Not half as sorry as you'll be if you let Sirius die right now. He said yes. He wants it. He's not ignorant of what this means. Ana..."

His voice trailed off for a second, and he wrenched his gaze away. Her eyes were so _blue. _The place where their flesh touched seemed to tingle with electric jolts of heat that danced along the skin and sank into their blood.

Remus jerked his hand back. He reeled, his head light, his breath and heart racing. He steadied himself by clutching at the covers on the foot of the bed. "What was that?"

Ana turned back to Sirius and ran her knuckles gently over his cheek, feeling the scruff of his unshaved face against the smoothness of her hand. "Legend says that the first werewolf was created by the first Dark Fey."

"The what?"

"The first Vampire."

"How was he created?"

"My Master never told me. But he did tell me that because of this, the Children of the Dark Fey, us Vampires, we have … some sort of connection."

Remus stood at the foot of the bed, trying to get his heart to stop beating so fast, trying to slow his breathing. "I… I've never heard that before. I mean, I knew that they were… we were connected… but the part about the Dark Fey…"

Ana shook her head. "My Master told me. I've never told anyone except you and Albus. I don't suppose its common knowledge. Vampires play it close to the vest."

Remus nodded. "I should like to write some of this down if… I mean, later. When things are…"

He let the implications hang.

Ana sighed heavily and turned her eyes back to the man stretched out on the bed next to her. Sirius had grown alarmingly pale, the black in his veins standing out in grotesque contrast. He was panting heavily now, a sweat broken out all over his body, and his eyelids and fingers twitching madly. From what she'd read, the twitching would only get worse. Eventually he'd go into a full epileptic coma and then die.

Kreacher came back into the room and placed the basin, pitcher, cloth, and glass on a bedside table, shot Ana a contemptuous look, and left.

"I'm going downstairs," Remus said softly, and followed after the house-elf. "I'll see you in a few hours. I know you'll do the right thing, Ana. Especially since you don't want to."

He closed the door softly behind him.

Ana watched him go, then looked down at Sirius.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She leaned down and pressed her lips against the shell of his ear. "I'm so, so sorry." She straightened and reached for the glass of water on the bed side table.

Ana pressed the rim of the half-full glass gently to Sirius' lips. "You have to drink, Sirius," she said. She put her arm under his neck and tipped his head back slightly, parting his lips with her other finger. She poured the water into his mouth and he sputtered before swallowing automatically. She poured more and he swallowed it with less fuss. When he had drunk the whole glass she lay him back down on the pillows. His head rolled to the side and he coughed once before resuming his deep panting.

Ana sat on the edge of the bed, her back to Sirius and his pain, and her head in her hands.

She _knew_ what she had to do. She remembered how to do it, how it was done to her. She had read Albus' books.

But... she was scared. Terrified, really. What if she messed up? What if she killed him for real? What if he hated her later? She felt so horribly guilty too - depriving Harry of his Godfather, killing a man who spent most of his life metaphorically dead already.

But it wasn't real death, was it? This haunted unlife. _She_ certainly didn't feel _dead_.

She stood, trying to ignore the squeak from the mattress and the corresponding groan from Sirius as it was moved. She moved to the fireplace and stood as close to it as possible, her arms crossed across her stomach, her fingernails digging into her own elbows.

What was she doing?

Every moment she hesitated was another moment Sirius was in pain. Or closer to dying. What if she hesitated just that one second too long and then... and then ...

She shook her head and held herself tighter.

She _had_ to do this.

So why wasn't she going back to the bed?

So why wasn't she turning around and saving Sirius' life?

Remus had said that Sirius _loved_ her. Sirius had talked to her, held her affectionately.

Would she let this man die?

_Could_ she?

She jumped when strong, warm arms circled around her shoulders from behind.

Rough fingers and warm palms flattened themselves on her body, one on her hip, the other in the flat spot between her neck and the middle of her breasts. They moved slowly, almost tenderly, rubbing in small, sensual circles. When she looked down, she saw that they were lined with black.

"Sirius," she said softly.

He made a soft sound against the back of her head, into her hair. The hands started to rip through the fabric of her shirt in a slow, jagged line down the front.

"Give it to me," he growled in her ear. He moved like a lover, but there was no doubt of what this was - the bloodmaddness had taken over, giving him strength and determination, forcing his exhausted body to try, one more time, to survive.

He pressed his lips against the skin of her neck, breathing hot, wet breaths against her ear. She felt the pressure of his teeth against her jugular.

"Take it," she whispered softly, "take me and take it, Sirius. It's what you want."

Sirius whirled her around and threw her to the floor. She yipped at the pain, the back of her head and buttocks striking the hardwood floor hard. But she didn't throw him off. She lay on the floor, allowing him to climb overtop of her, trapping her in a cage of his limbs, staring intently and forcefully into her eyes with red-tinged grey ones, to tear off the remains of her shirt and toss them into the nearby flames.

'_I should stop him'_ she thought, _'snap him out of it. Do it … better... but what is better? Nicer. His instincts are in control. It'll get done like this. I couldn't have done it... I hope he doesn't hate me, or himself, for letting it go on like this.'_

He pressed his lips to her neck and a knee between her thighs and Ana lifted her chin and looked to the side, giving him the best access. His teeth were dull, only slightly sharpened by the slow transformation of his body, but by no means the wicked little knives of her own.

Rather than cutting cleanly through the flesh, he ended up gnawing a hole - she raised her arms to attempt to cut her skin herself and he grabbed both her wrists in one hand and slammed them to the floor above her head, mistaking the gesture for an attempt to shove him off. He ignored her whimper of pain as he finally broke through the skin.

He sucked greedily and she allowed it, closing her eyes and trying to pretend that this was a romantic interlude on the soft rug by the fire with a man she had come to feel a deep affection for, rather than him forcing himself on her for his survival.

She shifted her legs so that they lay against the outside of his thighs, allowing him to press closer to her, to grid his own pelvis against hers. She lifted her own teeth to the juncture of his neck and shoulder where she had first bit him.

Instinct told her to complete the circle - take his blood as he was taking hers. Replenish herself. Don't let him drain her dry. Cycle all the blood in his body through her own infected system at least once before shoving him away, let the virus of Vampirism infect every cell of him ... she balked when she got a good look at his neck.

The two black spots had grown so large they had become one single stain. Hesitantly, she slid her fangs into his flesh directly in the middle of the spot, sucked, then withdrew and spat out the foul tasting blood on the floor.

It was sour. Rotted.

This was the taste of the infection she had given him.

She didn't know how to proceed here - the books had never said what would happen to the victim if he was allowed to drink the blood of the vampire. Maybe Sirius would manage to take enough blood from her to turn himself, maybe not. But she figured leaving all that junk in his system couldn't be good for him.

Steeling herself, she pressed her lips to the sluggishly oozing, putrid wound, and sucked again. Again she turned her head to the side and spat. As Sirius continued to suck the fresh red blood from her own body, she in turn pulled the venom from his and expelled it into an ever growing puddle of foul smelling black ooze on the floor.

Eventually the pressure on her wrists let up, as Sirius became intent only with his suckling, and Ana began to grow light-headed. He was pulling all the blood from her body, but she was not replacing it with his own. Stars and black spots began to dance behind her eyes and she felt her eyelids growing heavy.

She wondered briefly if it was possible for her to die.

She had been burned before, strangled once, and stabbed, and poisoned, and never died - could this actually end her? All her blood, all her power being stolen?

When she could no longer hold her own head up she let it thunk noisily to the floor, uncaring about the pain. He body felt cold and heavy, like her bones were made of large rods of frozen steel, and they would push her down so heavily she would break through the floor. The sound of her skull hitting the ground startled Sirius, and he pulled away, gore dripping from his chin.

She looked up at him and smiled a weak and tender smile. His startled expression was endearing, and she realized all the black had been purged from the veins on his face. His eyes were entirely coated over with crimson, just as hers were when she fed.

"Sirius," she croaked around a parched throat, and tried to lift a hand to touch his cheek. She felt weak, heavy, cold and hot and so unbelievably thirsty all at once. She hadn't the strength, but Sirius caught her hand and pressed her palm to his own face.

"Ana?" he asked softly, his expression puzzled and confused. "Where am I? What... what's happening?"

Ana didn't have time to answer before the blackness of blood loss over took her. Just as the waves closed over her head, she heard Sirius cry out and felt him spasm on top of her - his body had just entered its death throes. The blood was taking over.

She felt guilty that she wouldn't be there for him when he woke up.

* * *

Something cool and hot pressed against her lips.

Cool _and_ hot?

Yes, the goblet was cool, metallic tasting... but the blood inside it was rich and warm and... tasted of Werewolf.

Ana sat up abruptly, coughing, and large hands pressed between her shoulder blades and against her collarbone, keeping her upright.

"Slowly, now," Remus said beside her and made sure she was alright to sit up alone before he let go. He picked up the goblet from the coffee table and handed to her, and she drank gratefully, watching him over the rim of the cup as he sat back in a chair opposite her and put his feet up on the table, nursing a bandaged wrist.

They were in the parlour, where she and Sirius had first flooed in. She had been laying on the couch and ...

"Where's Sirius?"

Remus smiled. "He's fine. He's asleep upstairs, still comatose. He has been out for about five hours, and I suspect he won't awaken until sunset."

"What time is it?"

"Around five am."

Ana looked at him and saw the bags under his eyes. "You look exhausted."

"I am," the Werewolf admitted lightly. "I'm still trying to catch up after the last full moon two days ago, and I didn't want to leave you alone. Kreacher and I disposed of the black venom on the floor, as I didn't trust him to get rid of it alone, and then arranged both you and Sirius in your respective resting spots. I consulted some texts, owled the Headmaster to tell him it was successful, owled the Weasleys to tell them Sirius' new condition, owled Harry to tell him Sirius was fine and not to worry, then finally decided I couldn't wait until the butcher shops opened to revive you, as I was getting bloody bored, owled the Weasleys _back_ when they sent a frantic message, then slashed open my wrist to feed you."

"Sounds like a busy night. I appreciate it," Ana said softly. "I promise you, when I go to the butchers for Sirius' dinner, I will bring you back a steak worthy of a wolf."

Remus laughed.

"Is everyone worried, then?"

Remus shrugged. "The Headmaster isn't, Harry doesn't know - I only said that you and Sirius had decided to come back here last minute - and the Weasleys, Molly and Arthur, anyway, are understandably worried and doubtful that Sirius made the right choice, but support him and send you their thanks for bravely offering yourself and your help to him."

"That's nice of them," Ana set down the now empty goblet, ignoring the twisting in her gut and the burning, pulling in her veins that signalled that she was still starving. "Most Witches and Wizards would want to hunt the two of us down for just existing." She twisted the goblet to see an emblem emblazoned on the side - it looked like a family crest.

The Black Family, perhaps?

"The Weasleys are good people who don't mind having a Werewolf for a friend - I don't see why they wouldn't accept Vampires as well."

Ana nodded and slumped down into the sofa. Kreacher arrived grudgingly with pillows and a blanket. "Thank you," she told the elf, but he muttered darkly and left without a word otherwise. "What's with him? I thought house-elves were supposed to be... cheerful and stuff. Or is that a stereotype?"

Remus sighed and settled himself more firmly in his chair. Ana noticed that he was holding a snifter of brandy now. It must have been sitting on the small card table beside his chair. There were sheaves of parchment and an ink well beside a worn quill, and Ana could guess what they were about – the words _Dark Fey_ were prominent on the top page.

"House-elves are very loyal to their families and usually are very happy and proud to serve them. They never begrudge their roles in life because that's where they are happiest. They... they _enjoy _making their families happy. Kreacher, however, sees Master Sirius as a stain on the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. See that tapestry there? Sirius' name has been burned off."

Ana twisted in her seat to look at the tapestry in question. There was indeed a small cinder mark at the bottom. "What did Sirius do wrong? He seems like a really decent guy to me."

"That's just it," Remus sighed, "he's a decent guy. He was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin, and he was never a supporter of the Dark Arts. In both wars, the old one and this one, he is an open supporter of The Light."

Ana grimaced, "And his family...?"

"Every last one is a Death Eater, as far as we figure. Those who stayed in the family, at any rate. Pure Blood supremacists, in the worst way. "

"That's horrid."

"That's family. Besides, Sirius is the only one left, now, except for his cousins Tonks, Bellatrix and Narcissa. Tonk's mother Andromeda was Sirius' cousin, and Tonks is part Wizard and Part Muggle - see, there's a second name burned off the tapestry there. Narcissa is married to Lucius Malfoy, one of the chief supporters of the Dark, and Bella just escaped from Azkaban... Bella was the one who knocked him through the Veil."

Ana sucked in a breath, but said nothing. she was afraid it would all come out in profanities. Eventually the urge got the better of her. "That bitch," was all she growled.

Remus nodded and took a rather large sip of brandy. Ana wasn't sure that was good for him when he was tired and low a cup and a half of the red stuff. It had been a hard bunch of hours, however, and Ana thought that he deserved a little liquid relaxation.

A sudden stream of sunlight cut across the carpet between them, shooting in from the parlor window, and Ana took this as her cue. "You, Mr. Lupin," she said, pulling herself slowly to her feet, bypassing the light, and pulled him to his. He moved only reluctantly, and only after he had downed the last of his brandy. "Will go to bed. Vampire's orders…"

He chuckled but did not argue and started to shuffle towards the stairs, leaning on her shoulder. They parted ways at the bottom of the steps, and Ana called up:

"…and I will borrow a parasol and concentrate really hard on rainy mornings, and go find a butcher's shop."

From the middle of the stairs, Remus said, "Have you any Muggle money?"

"I do," she agreed - and only then did she realize she was wearing an oversized tee-shirt with a big black dog on the front. Of course, Sirius had burned hers. The shirt wafted the gentle perfume that was Sirius – a sharp musky scent overlaid with fresh grass and white wine. It must be his. She buried her nose briefly in the sleeve, then took up a parasol and headed out into the drizzly dawn, hoping to catch an early bird in his shop, preparing early for the day.

* * *

Nearly twelve hours later, Ana looked over the table at Remus, where he was busy happily devouring the AAA 22oz steak she had bought for the Werewolf at the butchers that morning. "Remus, when you said you 'disposed' of the venom, what did you mean?"

The other man swallowed quickly, coughed, took a deep pull on his glass of milk, and said, "Sorry, went down the wrong tube. I, uh, put some of it into phials for further study, gave two phials to Snape as I remember him looking for some last year (he demanded to know outright where it came from and was furious when I didn't tell him)," here he grinned, all teeth, and Ana was reminded that Remus Lupin had once been a Marauder too, "and diluted and boiled away the rest so Kreacher couldn't take it to any of the other Black family."

Ana nodded.

Upstairs there was a loud thud, followed by a groaned "Hell..." Ana looked upward, at the ceiling above them, and Remus jumped slightly.

"Sunset - and the smooth, charming, very seductive Vampire... falls out of his bed. Oh, I know I'm turned on."

* * *

Sirius felt like a thousand little men with a thousand little knives were poking him in the eyes.

He groaned and lifted his forearms to block out the blinding light that dared to stab at him from between the drapes. It was the brightest light he'd ever seen in his life. He rolled over onto his side, trying to put his back between him and the window and over balanced himself. His body should have been heavier, harder to lift - he had put the right amount of momentum into the turn, hadn't he?

Yet he rolled right to the edge of the bed, scrambled for the covers, got himself tangled, and fell head-first onto the hard-wood floor below his bed. Okay, so there was a lovely old rug between him and the hard wood floor, but the floor was still ... hard.

"Hell..." he groaned to himself, and just decided to lie there. He was safe from the cutting beam of obnoxiously bright light over here, on the far side of the bed. And now the back of his head was throbbing. Best to stay put, at least for a little while.

"Charming," he heard a voice say and cracked one bleary eye in its direction. It had sounded like Remus, but... it was fuller. Was that the right way to describe it? There was... _more_ in the sound than he was used to.

He could hear all the resonances, the tones... a slight growling that came from low in the Werewolf's throat when he spoke, as if he had indeed been a wolf who had now learned to snarl out human language. Above that was a clear crisp aristocratic London accent he was used to, and something heavier in him too - moving wind and the constant buzzing of vocal chords preparing themselves, the whoosh of air in and out of lungs, the thick wet sound of a pounding heart, blood racing though veins, small zipping zaps electricity in the brain and a thousand million other sounds that Sirius had never heard come from his friend before, even with the acute hearing of his dog form. "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit," Sirius agreed and tried to sit up. With much fumbling in the covers he managed to unwind himself enough to prop himself upright with his back resting against the side of the bed, his elbows on his knees and his eyes pressed against his wrists. "It's too friggin' bright in here."

Remus padded over to the window and the metallic 'shhhhh' of the curtain rings scraping the rod set his teeth on edge. Sirius remained silent as his friend re-adjusted the drapery. When the room was dark, Remus retreated to the wing-backed chair of cracking and worn brown leather by the fireplace and sat by the dying embers, staring at his friend.

Sirius took the opportunity to look at Remus, too, to really _look_ at him. There were a million subtle differences in his friend's appearance, just as his sound had changed. His skin looked thinner, the blood underneath it almost teasingly visible - he was rosy and warm, healthier looking than he had been in years. The wrinkles on his face seemed more numerous, but less threatening - each fine line held a fascination for Sirius. His ears - why had he never noticed before? - his ears were slightly more pointy than a human's. Not so much as an elf's, but pointy nonetheless - his fingers were well-muscled and strong-looking, the nails thicker and darker than a human's ought to be. Even his teeth appeared slightly sharper, his hair shaggier, his body leaner and his motions, his little hand gestures seemed more... feral.

It was as if he was seeing the wolf in his friend for the first time.

He could smell it too - the thick scent of the moon and night and pine trees and freshly fallen snow and hot blood on a white muzzle and the chestnutty musk of mice and rabbits and the thick stench of steaming meat in the air that had been a hundred dinners and imprinted itself on dense fur.

And his eyes... Remus's eyes captured the firelight and threw it back outwards in a dazzling array of icy blues and blazing ambers, his pupils slit and focussed solely on Sirius, and Sirius alone.

He was not going to look away first.

This was an experienced wolf - a child of many nights, knowledgeable in the silent and secret language of the hunters and the hunted, having been both in his life. His long years made him weary but strong, stronger and more solid than Sirius had ever seen his friend before; this man who always seemed so frail, so in need of protecting. Now he looked like a coiled spring, compact and trim and deadly.

"You hardly look any different," Remus ventured slowly. "The black lines are entirely gone. Your skin is smoother - healthier... you hair looks nicer, shiney... your eyes are very... luminescent."

"My eyes?" Sirius echoed faintly, still enraptured by Remus'.

"Silver now," Remus said slowly, flicking his gaze up to catch Remus'. Their gazes locked each other's in place - two predators, now, staring at each other. Not in warning, not in theat, just... in curiosity. Each predator reading the eyes of the other, just to be sure. Each predator silently and gently pressing against the other's resistance, to see where the weaknesses would be, where the places of advantage...

"Silver..."

Sirius slowly unfolded himself from the foot of the bed, letting the red brocade coverlet slither along his nude torso and drop to the floor as he walked across the smooth wood with bare feet, clad in nothing but his battered black leather pants. He placed a hand firmly on the rise of the wing-backed chair above Remus' head and leaned forward, gently resting the knuckle of his other index finger under the Werewolf's chin. He applied slight pressure upwards and Remus submitted.

"Werewolf," said something inside of Sirius. Something that was old and ... aware.

"... m... master..." Remus replied, lowering his eyes and lifting his chin back to expose his neck as he would to an Alpha Wolf. Among a pack, it was a symbol of trust and proof that one was willing to give his life to his Alpha - Remus had only ever made this gesture once before, and that was to his old lover. She had left him, and married Longbottom. But something in Sirius' eyes, something in his presence, made him want to submit to his friend now, made him want to acknowledge him as the Alpha Male, even though up until now they had been equals, packmates.

Sirius lowered his lips to the offered vein, a strange burning, pulling in his own veins, throbbing along his temples, drowning out all sound but that of the wolfheart pounding in his ears. He let his tongue run along the pulsing jugular, testing, teasing, before setting his teeth against the skin and...

"Sirius!" A sharp female cry rang out from the doorway, sounding displeased and dominant. Sirius cringed and backed away from his prize and turned to face this interfering thing. The something old and aware inside him saw her and recognized her immediately.

Sire.

Maker.

_To be obeyed._

Sirius said, "Ana?"

She came forward suddenly and the haze around him was broken. He stumbled backwards, away from Remus, and landed hard on his butt. It should have hurt a lot more than it did. He flicked his gaze to his friend, to find him gazing off into space with his chin pressed upwards and his eyes staring into nothingness, his lips and jaw slack. His wrists were laying listlessly on the arms of the chair, his whole posture slumped and awkward looking.

"Remus!" he said and sprang to his feet - again, it was far faster and easer to do than it should have been, but he had more important things to worry about than his speed.

Ana stepped between the two of them and Sirius stopped short. "Ana, what's happened to Remus!"

"He's fine," she said softly, and like Remus' voice, Ana's seemed to have gained so much more expression, so much more resonance. He could hear the power in her voice. He could hear the blood. "He's just dazed. It's normal."

"Dazed?" Sirius peered over her shoulder at Remus. He seemed like a mental patient, unseeing and soulless. It terrified him.

"Vampires have the ability to exert their influence over other lesser Dark Creatures," Ana said and stepped aside so Sirius could go over and look down at his friend. "The wolf in Remus recognized the Vampire in you and willingly submitted. Just be careful not to maintain eye contact for too long again, okay? It's not harmful just... sometimes it can be embarrassing if there are people around you. The only problem this time was that you haven't fed yet - you nearly bit him."

Sirius swallowed heavily and put a hand over his mouth.

Almost bit Remus...

...but...

His eyes - no longer grey, but now a startling silver - widened.

"I'm a Vampire," he said softly, one hand pressing against his bare stomach, the other still loosely covering his mouth. "I'm a Vampire."

Ana gently pushed him back towards the bed and made him sit, then wrapped him in the tangled red coverlet. Then she went back to Remus and struck him lightly on the cheek a few times.

Remus sat up with a jerk and a growl, then relaxed when he saw that it was Ana standing over him.

"Ana! I... Sirius..."

"It's okay, you're okay," she said with a smile, and gestured to where Sirius was sitting on the foot of his bed, nearly lost under the blanket and muttering over and over, "I'm a Vampire, I'm a Vampire..."

"I did nearly the same thing when I realized what had happened to me," Remus said sadly, standing, gaze fixed on Sirius. Ana stepped out of his way as he moved to sit beside his friend on the edge of the bed.

"I'll admit, I'm a bit worried," Ana said and took Remus' place in the wing-backed chair. But she didn't relax back into it. Instead she remained perched on its edge, her hands knotted on her knees. "I may have waited too long - the venom--"

"I'm sure he's fine," Remus dismissed the rest of her sentence. "He's in shock, but he'll get over it. Give him an hour to digest it."

"How did you get over it?" Ana asked softly.

Remus turned his brilliant blue eyes away from his best friend. "The scars on my face aren't from the Werewolf," Remus said softly. "I was eight years old when I was attacked, when the Old Alpha killed my twin brother, and failed to kill me. ... I ... my nails had gotten longer by then. Claws. I wanted to die. I kept repeating, over and over, _I'm a monster, I'm a monster_ and ... the claws... weren't very sharp... I moved onto the next line when the blood started to come."

Ana said nothing, eyes cast down at her hands, shielded by her fringe.

The heavy silence was broken only by Sirius' broken, hitching sobs.

"I'm a Vampire. I'm a Vampire. I'm a Vampire..."


	10. Cold Showers

Part Ten: "Cold Shower"

* * *

It took the better part of the morning for Sirius to calm down enough to even meet Ana's eyes. He was swaying, dizzy, and confused. Remus remained beside him on the bed to help keep him upright. The werewolf rubbed soothing hands up and down his hysterical friend's spine.

Remus was doing his best to avoid meeting Sirius' eyes, but it was difficult. The grey had brightened into piercing silver. Like Ana's eyes, Sirius' now seemed to be lit from within by some sort of angelic or demonic light.

Sirius had a million and one questions. He barely stuttered out one before another would occur to him, and Ana couldn't even draw breath to answer before he was questioning her again.

Ana let this go on for all of five minutes before she raised her hand from the arm of her chair and silenced Sirius.

Frustrated, she told him that, under no uncertain circumstances, he would sit down, curl up in a blanket, relax, and drink off the entirety of the flask she gave him.

_Then_ they would talk.

She'd had Kreacher bring up the flask earlier and set it in a shallow cauldron of water, which she then hung over the fireplace. When the water had boiled and warmed the blood from the butcher's that she had put inside the flask, she took off the pot and let it cool for five minutes or so. She then fished the flask out, wrapped it in a tea towel, and handed it to Sirius.

He hesitated only as long as it took for the bloodsmell to tickle his nose. Then he lifted the neck of the flask to his lips and drank until it was dry. He tossed the flask away and it skittered across the floor and hit the wall with a dull thunk that made Remus jump.

The colour began to fill his lips and cheeks immediately, his body growing rosy with the stolen blood. He stopped swaying and stared up at Ana. "Blood?"

She nodded and he looked as if he was ready to retch.

"Don't you dare puke," she scolded him from the wingbacked chair. "Your breakfast cost me a pretty penny."

"And I don't want to have stains on my robes," Remus added kindly, laying a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

Sirius made a face, then forced out a smile. "I won't be sick. I'm fine."

"Good." Ana lifted herself from her chair and crossed the room to stand before Sirius. "Up. Stand up."

"What?"

Ana grabbed his arm and shoved the coverlet off him and pulled him into the centre of the room. Slowly she walked around him, inspecting his skin closely.

Sirius shot a 'help me!' glance to Remus, who shrugged and sat back to watch the show.

Finally Ana came back around to the front and looked up into his eyes. "You look good - so scarring, no venom, and all in one piece. Congratulations, Sirius Black... you're dead."

Remus barked out a laugh. "That's the most surreal thing I think I've ever heard."

Sirius stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. "You think _that's_ surreal? You should hear _you_."

"Huh?"

Ana smiled at Remus. "He means your voice - Vampires have very acute hearing. I don't know how Werewolf hearing compares, but we can hear pretty much everything. I can hear your heart beat, the blood in your veins, the workings of your tummy... and werewolves have this low growly quality to their voices that no other creature has."

Remus looked slightly perturbed. "That's... ah... interesting. How come it never says so in the books?"

"Name one Wizard or Witch who's actually bothered to interview a Vampire."

Remus nodded, "Good point," and decided that there was a golden opportunity in his hands. If he couldn't teach DADA, he could at least write articles in scholarly journals about it... he'd written all he could about werewolves. Perhaps it was time he moved onto a new subject...

"My... skin feels funny..." Sirius admitted after a short silence. He scrubbed his arms with the palms of his hands irritably.

Ana returned her gaze to him, eyes narrowed. "Define 'funny'."

"Hot... too tight... it hurts underneath... under my skin… in my..." he trailed off, uncertain how to finish his sentence.

"In your blood?"

Sirius nodded.

"You're hungry," Ana said and cocked her head to the side. "I expected you would be."

"But, the flask..."

"Not enough. Not that little, especially for a new-one like you. That was just to take the edge off."

"You have some more downstairs, right?" Sirius' voice raised slightly towards the end of the sentence, desperation creeping in, tinged with fear.

Ana shook her head. " 'Fraid not. I bought just enough for two cups - one for you, one for me. Stuff doesn't keep well without a fridge."

Remus pulled himself to his feet. "I can go see if there's a shop nearby. Surely there must be another butcher who--"

Ana cut him off "No." Remus blinked but closed his mouth. "This will sound harsh and abrupt and maybe you think I'm moving too fast, but Sirius has to learn how to fend for himself. Tonight."

"But," Remus pressed, "It's hours until sunset!"

"Ana, please," Sirius said softly. "Don't make me. Not yet."

"If not now, then when?" Ana said.

"Ana..."

"What if something happens to me tomorrow and I can't be here to help you through this?"

"Nothing will happen. Can't we just stick with the--"

"It's not healthy to drink dead blood, blood removed from a body, all the time."

Sirius grabbed her hands in his, his silver eyes wide, showing more white than grey. "Please, Ana, I can't, not yet, it's too soon…"

"_No_!" She wrenched her hands out of his large warm ones and turned her back on him, crossing her arms. "Sirius, don't argue with me. I am calling on rain now - which I expect you to be able to do by the end of the month - and when it starts, we will be going hunting."

"Ana!"

"_We will be going hunting_. End of discussion." She stomped towards the door and wrenched it open. The metal hinges groaned in protest as she almost twisted them apart. "Get dressed," she said over her shoulder, and then walked out. She slammed the door shut behind her, making the whole wall rattle, and her footsteps could be heard as she stormed across the hall and down stairs.

Sirius stood in the middle of the room, blinking at the closed door, arms wrapped around himself. "What the _hell_ was that?"

Beside him, Remus sighed and sat down on the foot of the bed again. "She's not mad at you."

"The Hell she isn't!" He gestured emphatically at the door, pulling the coverlet back around his bare shoulders. "That was a fucking temper tantrum!"

"She's tired," Remus said softly, "and upset. And worried about you. Her Sire abandoned her without teaching her a thing. I think she's determined to make sure the same thing doesn't happen to you."

Sirius turned to his friend, his bare feet making a soft 'shush' sound against the bare floor. "She doesn't have to be such a totalitarian bitch about it."

Remus narrowed his eyes at his friend. They had known each other most of their lives and it still baffled him that Sirius could be so naïve sometimes.

"Your legendary stubbornness isn't going to make her less upset," Remus scolded.

"What does she have to be upset about? I'm the one who just _died._" Sirius growled low in his throat once and threw himself onto the bed. He lay down and frowned at the ceiling. He crossed his ankles and tucked his hands behind his head, scowling.

"That's why she's upset. Padfoot..." Remus lay down beside his friend and joined him in staring at the ceiling. "She's feels _guilty_, you know. She told me so. She feels like this is all her fault."

"It _is_ her fault."

"Padfoot!"

"Okay, so maybe it's not _all_ her fault. But I just..." Sirius closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and held it... and held it... and held it...

"Are you going to exhale?"

"Right. Damn. Forgot." Sirius shook his head. "This'll take some getting used to."

Silence descended for a moment, as each man contemplated what this new development meant in their lives.

"Do you remember, Moony, back in second year, when I got to go to your house for Christmas Holidays?"

Remus turned his head on his hands to look at his friend's profile. If he looked closely enough, he thought he could see pudgy-cheeked twelve year old with the scandalously long hair and the mischief-filled grey eyes under the weary stamp of seventeen years of hard living. "Yeah - you put a frog in my parent's bed. Sirius, where did you find a frog on Christmas eve?"

"Transfigured a Chocolate one." Sirius grinned.

Remus could see the wicked sharpness of his eyeteeth, even though his fangs were currently retracted, and shivered slightly, remembering the feeling of willingly submitting to his friend earlier... the graze of those teeth over his sensitive skin, the inward shiver of anticipation, the pressing on his gaze, the eerie lack of body heat as Sirius leaned close... Remus shoved the memory away. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.

"Why do you ask?"

"Hm?"

"Why do you ask if I remember that Christmas?"

Sirius's grin faded. "We stayed up all night talking, laying just like this, didn't we? Wondering when Father Christmas would come and if the trap with the bludgers we set up would work."

Remus chuckled - "It did work. It caught our cat."

"Your father was furious."

"Mom cried 'cause we destroyed the tree."

"I felt so horrible," Sirius added softly. "I felt so guilty. I hadn't meant to do it. It was all in fun. Something went wrong and I just... it was the absolute worst feeling in the world, knowing that something you did hurt someone else."

"My Mum got over it."

Sirius rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, his elbow jabbed into the mattress. "I think that must be how Ana feels, eh?"

"She would never admit as much but... yeah..." Remus nodded. "I guess. She… she's never really hurt anyone before, I don't think."

"She said she's always been really careful."

Remus nodded. "It must be tearing her up."

Sirius sighed and sat up. "I guess I better go get dressed, then. I still think this is too soon. I can barely stand up straight, yet."

"You have to eat, Sirius."

"I don't eat anymore."

"You know what I mean."

"You're no fun."

"Ana's right - if you put it off now you'll just keep putting it off."

"I will not."

"You will, too."

"…I hate you when you've got a valid point."

Remus sat up as well, smiling. "I know. Hm, I can smell the rain now - it'll be here any minute."

Sirius turned to say something else and found Remus' gaze directly in line with his own. They both froze when their eyes locked by accident. Neither moved a muscle, suddenly the only sound in the room the crackling of the wood in the fire and the heavy beating of Remus' heart.

Sirius touched Remus' cheek gently with the very tips of his fingers, right above his cheekbone, before he had even realized he had lifted his hand. He ran the pads of his fingers along one thin white line of scar tissue.

"Sirius, don't," Remus said softly as the other man leaned in slightly, just close enough to seem mildly threatening.

"I... I just want to hear you say it again." Sirius touched the whole side of his friend's face gently with thick fingers. He spoke just above Remus' mouth, as if he was going to kiss him. Kiss him, or eat him. "Werewolf."

Remus whined and lowered his eyes. He raised his chin to the ceiling, baring his neck.

"Master," he breathed, without meaning to, without knowing why. He tensed, waiting for the feel of teeth pricking his skin, and jumped, startled, eyes flying open, when he heard the door slam, instead.

Sirius was gone. Remus sat up and looked about, wrapping his arms around himself. The door to Sirius' wardrobe was swinging slightly, wide open, and one of the hangers was empty.

Sirius had leapt off the bed, opened the wardrobe, removed a shirt and left the room in the time it took for Remus to mutter his name.

Damn, but it was unnerving how fast Sirius was able to move now.

Remus shook his head and stood, smoothing down his robes, and walked over to the wall. He bent to retrieve the empty blood flask, pocketed it, and exited the room. He refused to think about what just happened.

Thinking about it meant that he'd have to sort out the myriad of confused emotions that were bubbling just under the surface. Remus was uncertain what had just happened – he had submitted to someone not of his pack, non-wolf, and it didn't bother his innerbeast. Remus had felt safe under Sirius' gaze, and excited. Aroused, almost, although it wasn't the same.

Sirius was going to touch his lips to Remus' – perhaps a kiss, perhaps something more powerful – and Remus didn't seem to mind.

Descending the stairs, he heard Sirius' voice wafting from the parlor:

"...don't know why. I have to hear him say it... I don't... I mean... it's not …_sexual_ or anything, is it?"

Remus froze on the spot, to prevent the floorboards from creaking, and strained to hear Ana's reply.

Apparently Sirius had felt the pull the same way he had.

"Maybe. I don't know. Vampires are predatory, dominant creatures, Sirius. Just as I am your sire and you are now my childe - and I will never let you forget it. Already I feel a ... a swelling of... well... possessiveness. Remus has been your friend... your _only_ friend... for a long time. It's natural that the possessive nature of the Vampire in you wants to claim the Werewolf in him. You want to mark him as yours to keep him from being taken away from you again. If it's sexual, then... well, I don't think it is. Unless you bat for both teams and you're not telling me."

Sirius made a sort of indignant snorting sound. "Ana!"

There was laughter in Ana's voice as she continued. "It's just... just the possessiveness. The Vampire wants to own a person totally. You'll get used to quashing it."

"Do you quash it?"

"All the time, honey."

"Did you ever want to mark anybody?"

Ana sighed, and Remus risked taking a few steps forward to hear better. "I marked Albus – there's a scar on the nape of his neck, not that you can see it will all that hair he has now. And I wanted to mark you and Harry, but I didn't."

"You feel that strongly about Harry? I mean, you're willing to take responsibility for his safety?"

There was a short pause. "I have already, in a way, haven't I?"

"…I guess. What about Moony?"

Again there was a pause. "I'd like to mark him, too, but he's … sort of a special case. Anyway, I really don't ever want to mark anyone again. It was… physically _painful _when I first left Albus. I won't mark any one ever again. It's … archaic. I don't like this possessive shit at all, really."

Remus closed his eyes and swallowed hard - he could feel his heart speeding up, pounding a mile a minute in fear and alarm and perhaps a bit of excitement. No, it was not good to indulge in a rush of adrenaline now. He tried to force it back down.

"But, if it's the nature of the Vampire to want to," Sirius swallowed hard, then pressed on, "... to claim, like you say..."

"It's in the nature of the Vampire, true... but we were human first. Learn to temper it."

"Then what about you and Remus?"

There was a small pause and Remus strained forward, clinging to the rail to hear the rest. Ana sighed heavily.

"There is no me and Remus. He is not mine - you have laid claim to him."

"But... before... the way you looked at him... like that... in the cemetery."

"I... yes. But I managed to quash it."

The jiggling sound of keys and the approaching footsteps alerted Remus to the fact that Ana and Sirius were walking to the front Hall, where he was standing in the middle of the stairs. He continued down them, making noise deliberately.

"Oh, Remus!" Ana said, a pleasant smile on her face as she and her new progeny rounded the corner. "We're just heading out now - we'll be back in a few hours. Want us to pick up any groceries? I still have some Muggle money left, and the shops should still be open."

"I... I'd appreciate that," Remus nodded, trying to appear calm and collected. "Milk, bread... I think Molly wanted me to pick up some more tinned tomatoes, but I don't remember what for."

"I'll get them anyway," Ana said and took Sirius by the elbow. The storm clouds had made it significantly darker and miserable outside for the streets to have been mostly cleared of anyone who may recognize him - she handed him a wide-brimmed hat off the hall tree just in case. "See you later."

"See you," Remus said, watching passively as she dragged a confused Sirius out the front door.

Sirius voice echoed back along the walk as the front door swung shut slowly, "Don't you think it would be safer for me in the dog fo--" his voice was cut off as the heavy door shut.

The second the door closed, Remus turned and grabbed the railing of the staircase, clutching at it desperately. He realized his heart was beating fit to burst and that he was panting, sweating.

Possessiveness!

Sirius longed to posses him!

Remus shook his head - no, no, this wouldn't turn out all weird. He wouldn't let it. They were friends, 'packmates' his instincts told him, and they would remain so. Sirius would learn to reign himself in, just as Ana did. Remus would refuse to allow the wolf in him to think of Sirius as 'Alpha'.

That could lead to awkwardness all around.

Remus' stomach did little flip flops at the thought of Ana admitting that she had wanted him. His logical mind said 'no, not like that', but his libido didn't listen. She had said that she had wanted to posses him that night in the cemetery, and Remus had to admit he had seen the spark in her eyes as she looked at him over Sirius, and wondered if she had been jolted with the same '_want you now!'_ feeling he had.

He had called himself silly, had wished Sirius luck, and Apparated away before the wolf in him made him say anything foolish like, "Can I come with you? Here, let me escort you, let me take your hand."

_Sirius_ had his sights set on Ana.

Even before he had met her, Remus had told himself that he would never do anything to come between them. It had been harder to remind himself of that truth when he saw her for the first time, leaning against that tombstone, but he had.

The wolf in him wanted her, had always wanted her, from the second it had seen her. Was that because of her own Dark Nature? Was it the bond between Werewolf and Vampire that made him want to take her, to submit to her, to make her submit to him? To revel in that glorious, powerful equality that Alpha wolves and their bitches seemed to share. Or was it something else?

_Something like not getting laid for about... oh... ten years,_ he thought to himself bitterly. But he was a big boy and he could deal with being alone. He'd been alone for a long time - it's not like he was the sort to go pick up a one night stand in a bar, anyway. That's not what he wanted. The wolf in him longed for a _mate_. Maybe not Ana, in particular, but she was mostly single, spunky, thoughtful, and a little bit badass - just enough to make his lycanthropy a 'not huge deal' to her.

But she was a Vampire -'master'- and his best friend pined for her.

Oh, he was being so _irrational_.

There was nothing at all in particular that drew him to Ana. Except the fact that she was here, she was female, and she was…good.

"Perhaps Master Lupin would like to take a cold shower?" an ugly voice beside his elbow suggested and Remus jumped.

"Don't sneak up on me like that!" Remus snarled at Kreacher. The house elf only sneered and him and walked away.

Remus pulled himself upright, feeling only slightly guilty for snapping at the house elf. "Cold shower," he muttered to himself. "Yeah - cold shower."

He went upstairs to do just that.

* * *

"What was that?" Sirius whipped around, craning his neck, but the blur of silver and brown skittered into the drain by the curb before he could get a good look at it.

Ana followed his line of sight, looking back over her shoulder, wrinkled her nose briefly, sniffing, then said, "Just a rat. C'mon."

She kept walking down the sidewalk ahead of him, dashing from awning to awning on the cramped back alley streets of White Chapel. Sirius rushed to catch up.

"Just a rat? I thought I saw a flash of silver."

"Maybe the bugger had a sickle."

"Maybe."

Ana paused under the cover of a café's awning and peered around the road. The streets were mostly deserted, the odd straggler fighting against the heavy and sudden cloudburst that had started to dump on this section of London only a few hours ago. Sirius moved into the door way beside her, jamming his hands into his pockets and hunching over. He longed for a hair tie to keep his sopping bangs out of his face.

The broad brimmed hat he had stuffed into his pocket when he realized he couldn't see worth a damn with it on, so he'd kept his head bent to hide his face in his hair, and turned his collar up.

"Ana," he said, his voice coming out in a soft whine. "Can we just do this get back? I'm cold and I'm wet and I'm starving."

Ana shot him a look under her own sopping bangs. "If you're so fucking desperate, go take that woman in the back corner of the café behind us. I can smell her arousal from here - she thinks you're a hottie."

"I can't... just... kill some lady...!" He chattered around a clenched jaw.

"I never said to kill her."

"Ana, I can't do _that_ either."

"Then shut up and do what I tell you to."

Sirius scowled. "There's no need to be so bloody rude about it."

Ana turned flashing eyes to him. "Listen, Sirius. I'm not being mean, I'm being realistic."

"You're being a total bitch!"

Ana's own expression dropped into a scowl. "Oh, I am, am I? Fine. There's the street, Sirius. Take your pick. Turn those pretty silver eyes on someone and I'm sure you'll find somewhere warm and dry soon enough. I'm going that way," she jerked her thumb back towards the section of town that held Grimmauld Place. "Come back when you're full."

She jammed her hands into her pockets and stepped out into the rain, head lowered to keep the water from running into her eyes.

"Ana, wait!" He huddled closer into the doorway. "Ana!"

"Sir?" a voice came from behind him and he turned to see a mousy young man in an apron standing on the other side of the now open entrance to the café. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to either come in or move - it's unsafe if you're blocking the exit."

"Yeah, yeah," Sirius glared at the kid and stepped out into the rain himself, miserable and cold. He looked up, intending to follow Ana wherever she would lead him, but Ana was no where to be seen. "Aww, gimmie a break!" he shouted up at the sky. "Ana! Ana! ...Gimmie a fuckin' break here!"

Ana managed to snag a scraggly half-dead alley cat on her way out of White Chapel and felt that would do her over until she made it back to the butcher's shop. The shop was closer to Grimmauld Place and she wanted to make sure that when Sirius got back, she would have sustenance ready for him, just in case he was unsuccessful.

She may have insisted on him hunting, but she wasn't going to let him starve.

_

* * *

I wasn't too hard on him, she told herself. __I wasn't. He needs to learn how to hunt, he can't rely on shops and blood banks. It's not safe and it's not healthy._ she told herself. 

Even telling herself that, she wasn't sure. She wanted to believe that this whole evening had not been a waste of her time, assuring that the long walk through some of the scummiest parts of London hadn't been for nothing. She had wanted him to see the sorts of humans he would need to prey upon if humans were what he decided he wanted. Hookers, pimps, drug dealers - the sorts of outsiders that no one gave two shakes about, the kind the cops were happy to find had gone missing.

That kind had existed forever. As long as cities had thrived, there had been a sect of undesirables available. A Vampire that chose to reside in the city was never lacking in prey.

Ana herself preferred stray dogs and cats, rats where she could catch them, and the ever obliging butcher's shops and blood banks. There were places in the Wizarding world where a Vampire could find a meal, but they were always shady, and probably run by dark Witches and Wizards. You never knew what was in the blood in those places, and despairing mortals haunted the taverns, begging any Vampire who seemed wiling enough or degenerate enough to turn them.

Ana was determined to make Sirius self-sufficient. Ana swore her first and only progenitor would never have to step foot into one of those scum-holes.

Ana's old Master had loved places like that.

He would choose the most desperate of the human clientele, the depraved, pretty ones and take them to a room in the upstairs of the bars that were built for this express purpose. He would call them beautiful and kiss them, and Ana would stand by the side of the bed and try not to be ill. Inevitably the Master would reach out and grab her wrist and pull her down onto the bed, allowing the mortal to suck and grab at her, until they were a pile of tangled limbs and sharp teeth.

The Master always preferred to fuck the mortal first. Then he would hold Ana down while the mortal was still drowsy with lust and release. He would tear the flesh at her breast, and allow the man or woman to suckle her like a sort of perverted babe. They would only just have latched onto her nipple when the Master would twist their heads off.

A good swift kick would send the corpse sprawling onto the floor and the Master would massage the blood from the decapitated mortal into her skin, licking, kissing, enjoying. She would squeeze her eyes shut and try not to think about it. When he was satiated and spent, he would cradle her close against his body and whisper in her ear - "aren't you pleased that I did not take your soul that night? Aren't you grateful that I have chosen to share this with you?"

And she would try not to cry.

As time passed, Ana learned not to feel pity and revulsion when her Master touched her. She had learned not to flinch.

Eventually, Ana had ceased to feel altogether.

It took many years after he abandoned her for her to be able to so much as smile again.

Ana clenched her eyes shut and swung one fist at the wall. The bricks cracked and shuddered at the force of the blow. _I don't want to think about him!_

She jammed her hand back into her pocket, feeling the ruptured skin and broken knuckles popping back into place and sealing up already, and hurried down the street towards the butcher's, before the rainstorm she had summoned let up.

She would not think about her Master, not now when she had a childe of her own to worry about. Ana would not fixate on the past that had abandoned her, when her future needed her.

She just hoped she had done the right thing, leaving Sirius to fend for himself.

But he had to learn sometime... right?

* * *

Sirius followed the sound and smell of birds to an amateur aviary on the top of a ramshackle tenement building. It wasn't exactly fine dining, but he was hungry, and blood was blood.

The low, roughly square cages were composed of cheap chicken wire and odds-and-ends lumber, held in place by duct tape and some rusty nails. He felt guilty already. Some kid had probably made this bundle of cages, and had raised the pigeons inside them himself.

_I'll leave a few,_ Sirius resolved, even as he scuttled across the rusty metal planks of the roof.

Carefully, he knelt by the closest of the row of cages and slowly opened the latch and stuck his hand in. After a few tense and loud moments of fishing, he managed to grab one of the two birds therein in a stranglehold, pulled it out of the cage, and, pushing down his revulsion, sank his fangs into the creature's flesh.

He expected it to taste coppery, salty and thick and of rotting meat. Instead, the liquid that hit the back of his throat was warm and rich and tantalizing. He couldn't describe the taste - yet it was, without a doubt, the most delicious thing he'd ever had.

Pitching the corpse over the side of the building, into the trash-strewn alley below, he reached into the cage and grabbed out the second bird. This time the revulsion was no where present as he clamped his teeth down on the little creature's neck.

Surprisingly, he felt so much better after the second bird. It didn't feel like it had been a lot of blood, but his veins were no longer burning, his skin felt warm, and he felt satiated and satisfied. Almost drowsy.

For the first time in seventeen years, Sirius Black felt full and content.

He decided to leave the rest of the birds and go back to Grimmauld Place. Ana was heading back there and he ... well, he didn't feel like he owed her an apology, but he didn't want to be fighting with her, either. She _had_ been a total bitch this whole night, forcing him out into the rain and making him hunt.

Wiping the back of his hand across his lips, he climbed down the rusty fire-escape ladder to the alleyway below, shifted into his dog form, stuck his muzzle out of the alley to make sure that no one was watching, then loped down the sidewalk towards home.

A single rat, its eyes dark and beady, sat on the top of a garbage can, eyes fixed on the dead bodies of the two pigeons.

* * *

"Remus? I'm back!" Ana called as she stepped in the front door. She shed her coat and shoes. The door had been unlocked, which had been surprising to her, until she remembered that Remus had told her that the Black House's door was charmed to recognize those who were allowed to enter and those who were not. She, apparently was now on the list of 'accepted', although when that had happened, she wasn't sure.

Kreacher appeared out of the shadows and took the new jars of blood she had purchased from her hands and slipped silently into the kitchen.

"Ana?" came the Werewolf's voice from upstairs.

"Yeah." She started to walk up the stairs, only to be met halfway down with Remus in a comfy but worn looking brown bathrobe and slippers, a mug of what smelled like coffee in his hand, and a towel wrapped around his head.

She raised her eyebrows. "You get a soaker?"

"Took a shower," Remus said hastily and turned his face away. She swore a bit of pink was rising on his cheeks, but she couldn't see for sure. "I was just relaxing with a cup of coffee at my desk. Give me a moment, and I'll join you in the sitting room."

He ran back upstairs to change and Ana shrugged, trudged up the stairs herself, and slipped into the bedroom opposite his which she had been given by the house elf that afternoon. She managed to change out of her wet clothes and into a drier set of black modrobes and a soft red tanktop and slip downstairs before Remus was finished.

Kreacher looked unhappy that she had come back, but handed her a fresh towel and a mug of warmed-up blood all the same. She thanked him and settled into the loveseat opposite the fireplace, holding the mug between two hands and relishing the warmth that seeped out of the ceramic into her skin.

Remus came into the room a few moments later, his own mug of coffee clutched in one hand and some papers and a quill in the other. He set the papers down and sat down on the seat beside her.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked as he arranged himself.

"He had a snit fit, so I left him on his own."

Remus stiffened. "On his own?"

"He'll be fine," Ana assured him. "He knows how to take care of himself."

"I guess..." Remus forced himself to relax and sit back again. "If you feel that was the best course of action, then I cannot disagree with you." There was a moment of silence and both sipped from their mugs - Remus's elbow accidentally brushed her arm, which sent a small thrill through him.

He stomped it down viciously.

"Oh, sorry," Ana said, turning to look at him, to make sure he hadn't spilt any coffee, and inadvertently their eyes locked. For a brief second, time stood still. Ana looked away first, casting her eyes down at her hands. "When are the others expected? Over breakfast you said Albus would come and visit tonight? And the Weasleys too?"

Remus nodded and cleared his throat. "And Severus too, I expect. They are all curious as to how Sirius is faring."

"And Harry?"

Remus sighed. "I think we're going to wait until the Christmas Holidays ... to let Sirius tell him, in person."

"Isn't he worried? Hermione must have sent you a load of owls by now."

"She has," he looked back up at Ana, to smile reassuringly at her, and found himself staring into glowing blue eyes. "Hermione... told her that... it was all okay ... now... nothing... else... Ana..." His voice came out in a strained whisper.

"Werewolf," she said softly, and her eyes seemed briefly hazed.

"Ana, stop," he said, but couldn't help setting aside his mug, leaning back into the arm of the love seat, tilting his chin up in the sign of submission. "Sirius..."

"Werewolf," Ana said again, and he felt her slim hands on his shoulders, her breath on his ear. Remus closed his eyes. "Just once... let me hear you say it, just once."

"I can't... Sirius..."

"Just this once..."

Remus exhaled slowly, bringing his own arms up to pull her against his chest. "Master," he groaned as he felt her body press against his. "Master!"

"Remus," she said softly, and the wolf in him took over.

He pushed her backwards, until she was in the submissive position, and he was hovering over top of her, one foot firmly against the floor, the other knee wedged between her body and the back of the loveseat. He grabbed her wrists in his hands and nuzzled the underside of her jaw, licking and nipping the sensitive flesh under her ear.

She turned her head and suddenly his lips were locked onto hers, his tongue battling with her own, twining between their mouths.

_Yes!_ the wolf cried. _Want, take, mine!_

The sound of the front door clicking shut startled Remus from his attack on her mouth and he pulled away as he heard the footsteps coming into the sitting room. "Ana?" the intruder asked and Remus bared his teeth at him, snarling.

This man would not take away his bitch.

"... Remus!" the voice cried out, and his lust-filled brain slowly cleared.

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head. When he looked back up he saw not an interloper, but his best friend.

Sirius stood in the threshold between the front hall and the sitting room, his clothing and hair soaked, leaving a puddle on the expensive carpet. His arms were loose at his sides and his eyes and mouth open wide in astonishment. Quickly he collected himself and replaced the dumbstruck awe with a sneer.

"I see. Well, Ana, I'm back, and full. I'm going upstairs to dry up a bit."

He turned on his heel and stalked away.

Remus felt Ana wriggle out from under him, saw her go running after his best friend, "Sirius, wait, you don't understand...!"

But he did not pursue her.

Remus just sat on the couch and stared at the stairs through the door.

"Oh, my _god_..." he said softly, burying his face in his palms. "What have I done?"

* * *

Far across the country, in an old, dilapidated manor house on the edge of a sleepy town, a rat sat cringing before a man in a dark robe and a chair. The man was stroking the glittering emerald snake in his lap.

"What is it, Wormtail?" the man in the shadowy robe hissed.

Where the rat sat now crouched a man, thin and haggard looking, pointy-faced and balding. "I saw him, My Lord."

"Him?"

"Sirius Black, My Lord."

The man in the robe said nothing and stayed perfectly still for so long that the man who had once been a rat dared to look up. "Did you hear me, My Lord? I said I saw Sirius Black in--"

"I heard you!" The robed man thundered, and the rat man cringed and lowered his beady eyes quickly. "... Sirius Black, eh? Alive?"

"Yes, My Lord... a-and no."

The red eyes shadowed by the hood of the seated man's robe narrowed. "Explain."

"He was killing pigeons... drinking their blood... before that he was walking with a girl... no older than eighteen or nineteen, My Lord. I ... I believe she was showing him how to hunt."

The robed man let forth a slow hissing chuckle that made the rat man's skin goosebump. "A Vampire," he said at length. "How clever. I wonder if that is how he escaped the Veil... no matter." The Dark Lord smiled. "And how did Mr. Black address her?"

"A-ana... My Lord."

"Ah. Wormtail," he focused his red eyes on the rat man, and the snake in his lap followed suit. "Send for ...ah, never mind. He is already here. Dorin, step forth."

A second robed man peeled himself from the shadows surrounding the Dark Lord's chair and knelt at his side, pulling aside his white, mouthless and expressionless mask. He didn't even glance at the rat.

"My Lord?"

"Wormtail, describe this Vampire girl."

"D-dark hair," he said slowly, "short. B-bright b-blue eyes... m-maybe a meter thirty tall. Slender... p-pale."

The dark eyes of the second man flashed under his hood. "I believe she is the one I've been searching for, My Lord."


	11. Too Easy

Part Eleven: "Too Easy... "

* * *

Sirius sat down in the wingbacked chair by the fireplace in his room and scowled. The scowl wasn't satisfactory to him, so he stood, went to the elaborate desk by the picture window, grabbed the chair by its spindly arms, and smashed it against the mantelpiece.

There. That felt _much _better.

He snarled and clenched his fists and started kicking the shattered splinters of the chair into the fireplace. The 'ping!' of the wood hitting the metal grate was also satisfying. "Reeeeeaaaaaargh!" He screamed a wordless, primal scream of frustration, and that made him feel best of all.

But he still felt like a looser piece of shit.

Kicking the grate itself for good measure, and ignoring it when the kick bent the metal double, Sirius flopped down into the wingback chair and resumed scowling.

The scream and the violence had made him feel better, but only marginally.

Sirius closed his eyes and saw Ana tangled in a liplock with his best friend on his own sofa. With a growl, Sirius rubbed his knuckles into his burning eyes. He wanted to scream, cry, and laugh all at the same time.

All his hope, gone, just like that.

Two months of careful steps, for nothing. A summer of trying to get to Ana, gone.

Not that he could blame Remus, which is what made it so funny.

Sirius had brought her into the house, and Remus was the one to finally break through Ana Oldwyn's acid-lined walls. He had _tried_, dammit, tried the whole time he was at her house and Ana had never so much as glanced at him fondly.

She had known Remus for three days and was already jumping him.

And how could Sirius possibly be mad at Remus?

Remus deserved happiness just as much as Sirius did – maybe more. Sirius'd had a hard seventeen years, but Remus' whole life had been one disappointment after another.

But could Sirius really just roll over and let Remus snog the girl he'd been after for a month?

There was a tentative knock at the door and a small female voice said, "Sirius?"

"Go away."

"Sirius, I want to talk to you."

"Go snog Moony some more." It sounded childish even to him. Well, he was _feeling _belligerent and pouty.

"Sirius!"

"_Go away…_"

There was a pause, then a defeated sigh from the other side of the door. Sirius listened carefully as the sound of footsteps signalled her decent back into the main hall, then he slumped and buried his face in his hands.

_What an idiot,_ he thought to himself. _Sirius Black, you're a grade A fucking moron. There was something between Remus and Ana, you knew there was. She sent him the letter. She was 'looking' at him in the graveyard. She ditched you in the middle of White fucking Chapel to run back here and shag him. She's only been doing what's right by you, and nothing more. She owed you for this - she was obligated to turn you, but now the obligation's over. She's done her part. You've been ditched._

He groaned and sank lower into the chair.

There was another knock at the door, a little louder, and the voice that spoke this time had a distinct growl underneath it. Werewolf. "Sirius?"

"Go away."

"Sirius, please, Anathema's very upset--"

"So go comfort her!"

"Sirius, let me explain, it wasn't--"

"--what it looked like?"

A sigh. "I'm coming in."

"No you're not!"

"Sirius!" Remus opened the door and walked in, then shut it behind him. "Quit being such a child and listen to me."

"Get out!"

Remus stalked over to the fireplace and glared down at Sirius, hands on his hips.

"Sirius."

"Go away."

"Look at me."

"No."

"Oh, for the love of--" Remus punched Sirius in the back of the head.

"_Ow_!" Sirius stood up abruptly and shoved Remus' shoulders. The Werewolf stumbled back, and immediately Sirius lunged at him, eyes red and fangs bared. He slammed into Remus hard, knocking him backwards. Sirius landed on top of his stomach and Remus' breath left his body in a painful grunt.

Sirius pinned Remus' wrists under his own knees and slammed his hands down on his shoulders.

"You knew!" he snarled in Remus' face. "You bloody _knew_ that I liked her!"

"Sirius, please, _calm down_!" Remus shouted over the Vampire's snarling. "It was a mistake. It was that Vampire possessive thing. It wasn't us!"

Sirius stopped and sat back a little, resting his weight on Remus' knees so he wouldn't be able to get up. "What?"

"That... possessive thing that ... Ana was telling you about. It was that."

"You heard that?"

Remus closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry." His brow furrowed and he frowned. "No, I'm not sorry 'cause goddamned it, Sirius, we are adults and Ana and I knew what would happen. We shouldn't have _let _it happen, but I'm not going to apologize for it. It was a mistake that won't be repeated."

"So you and Ana aren't...?"

Remus shook his head. "We're not. But... this is going to be difficult, Sirius, if we all stay here. Vampires and Werewolves were never meant to co-exist. One was supposed to control the other. Ana wants to control you, you want to control me, I want control of her, and it's all because of our god-damned inhuman instincts!"

Sirius blew his hair out of his eyes with a puff of breath and purposely let all of his weight rest on Remus' kneecaps.

"Ow! Gerrof!"

"Swear to me first, Moony, that you won't go after Ana anymore."

"What the... what the hell are we, in fifth year again?" Remus grunted, trying to gain enough leverage to shove Sirius off. "We're not fifteen, and Ana's _not_ Dahlia Patil, and I didn't even snog her behind the greenhouses while you were in detention, anyway!"

"Ah-ha!" Sirius aimed a finger right between the Werewolf's eyes. "You remember! You _are_ guilty!"

"I am not!" Remus yelled, his voice verging on shrill. He thumped his fists against the hardwood floor. "I was seeing Nance, then, anyway!"

Sirius paused and scratched his chin underneath his beard. "Oh, yeah."

"Get off me!" Remus finally snapped and jerked a knee up. Sirius' newly endowed Vampire speed was all that kept a 'very important part' of him from being very sore. He straddled Remus, a foot on either side of his shoulders, and glared down at him with his hands on his hips.

"Swear to me."

Remus rolled his eyes. "I'm not swearing, Padfoot. Anathema is almost three hundred years old. She is a big girl and she can make her own choices. She may just tell both of us sod off."

Sirius' scowl came back.

Remus lifted a hand. "Help me up, you silly twit."

Sirius grudgingly took Remus' hand and helped haul him to his feet. Remus remained upright for about three seconds before he began to sway, eyes squeezed shut. Sirius' anger evaporated instantly into concern as he wrapped a steadying arm around his best friend.

"Remus, you okay?"

Remus nodded slowly. "Chair, please..."

Sirius obligingly set him down in the wingbacked chair, then knelt of the floor beside him, wishing that he hadn't shattered the only other chair in the room. "Moony?"

Remus cracked an eyelid and smiled weakly. "Haven't slept enough. All this excitement."

"When was the last full moon?"

Remus chuckled. "You've actually lost track? While you were at Hogwarts with Ana."

"Jaysus, Remus, I'm sorry I forgot--"

Remus waved off his guilt. "No, no - you had concerns of your own to worry about. I got through it fine."

"But, just you and Kreatcher..."

"Molly and Arthur came by at dawn to let me out of the cage in the basement."

Sirius sat back on his heels and stared at his hands. "I should have been here..."

"I was _fine_," Remus insisted and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the crown of Sirius' head. "I just haven't caught up, yet. I've been sucking back coffee to stay awake in case you need anything. The blood I gave to Ana after you sucked her dry really did me in - I just need to sleep."

Sirius pulled back and looked up. "You gave blood to Ana?"

Remus allowed himself to flop backwards against the back of the chair. He said nothing.

"Remus, answer me - you gave blood to Ana? Why?"

"You took it all." He turned his head to watch the fire, and in the light of the flame, his bright blue eyes became tinged with wolf's amber. "You drained her dry and she had nothing left. I had no Muggle money for the butchers, so I ... there was a sharp knife in the kitchen and a good, big cup. That silver goblet Mundungus eyes each time he's here. She was fine, afterwards. You don't need to be worried about her."

"I'm not worried about _her_," Sirius insisted. "You really do need sleep, you idiot. Walking around like nothing's wrong when you have a few pints missing. Let me help you..." He stood and pulled Remus out of the chair and onto his feet, then gently helped him walk to his own bedroom down the hall.

"Sirius, you don't need to coddle me," Remus protested, even as he allowed his friend to pull off his slippers and tuck him under the covers. "I've done the full-moon thing on my own before."

"Not when you didn't have to," Sirius said, his voice low with an emotion Remus guessed was guilt. "Never once when I've been around."

* * *

Ana was glaring at the fireplace when Sirius came down the stairs. The curtains had been drawn tightly against the sitting room windows, but he guessed it was about eight-ish. She didn't turn to look at him and she didn't speak to him, not even when he plopped down onto the seat beside her.

"I spoke to Remus," he began slowly and could see the muscles in her back tensing up. "I'm sorry. I have no reason to be angry with you. You aren't my girlfriend and I have no right to get mad at you if you snog Remus. I can't say that I'm happy, but if that's what the two of you want, then you have my blessing."

"Sirius," Ana began. She started to turn around, but he reached out and put a finger over her lips.

"Let me finish." She levelled a dagger-filled stare at him, and he ignored it and went on: "I know it was probably the possessive thing. Vampires want to own, and werewolves want to dominate. Probably not the best thing to have three former-humans living in one house - like one of those bad reality shows we used to watch on your tell-a-vision. I want you to stay here with me and teach me about ... all this. And, if you end up going back to Little Whinging, that's fine, too... but... Ana... if you do, I want to go with you."

"But this is your house, Sirius."

"You're changing the subject." He smiled softly, the corners of his eyes crinkling up and a little flash of white teeth showing beneath his beard and moustache. "I said I want to go with you. Do you understand what I mean by that?"

"... yes."

Sirius leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. When she failed to kiss him back, he withdrew and met her eyes. "Then you would rather stay with Remus?"

Ana looked down at her hands, twisting in her lap, very obviously not meeting his eyes. "I don't know _what_ I want. Maybe…before… but now you're my childe, Sirius. I have a _responsibility_..."

Sirius sighed and reached out and drew her against his side, so they were snuggling comfortably on the loveseat. "Is that the only reason?"

Ana shrugged and allowed herself to relax in his arms. This felt nice. Real nice. Just like the time she and Sirius had watched the sunset over her roof from under the tree in her back yard. But it also felt awkward - Ana had been here, with Remus, on this very couch, not half an hour ago.

"Tell you what - stay here for now, and be my Sire. Teach me what I need to know, and when you think I've got it down, you move back to Number Three Privet Drive and continue making Petunia Dursley's life a living Hell." She chuckled and he smiled. "I will be right there beside you, digging up her rose bushes and shitting on her lawn, if you'll let me be. If you would rather take Remus with you, then I'm sure he'd love to dig up the rose bushes and shit on her lawn on a full moon night, and I'll be okay with that. If you don't want either of us there, I can understand that, too."

"Sirius, I--"

"Don't decide now," he cut her off quickly. "Just... just stay like this with me. For a little while. Is that okay?"

"Yeah." Ana sighed and let her head rest against his chest. "Yeah, that's okay."

Sirius wanted to ask why she had let herself get so close to really dying while she was turning him, by letting him drink so much of her blood that Remus' was required to spill some of his own in order to revive her, but he didn't want to spoil the moment.

He had just gotten himself back into Ana's good graces – he was loathe to argue again so soon.

* * *

As promised, Albus Dumbledore, and Arthur and Molly Weasely arrived around ten to check on Sirius' progress. By this time Remus had awakened from his nap, and Sirius and Ana'd had an intense conversation about the difference between changing into a bat shape and being an Animagus.

"...not at all the same!" The three members of the Order heard Ana shouting from the kitchen as Kreacher let them in the front door. "It's not about magic or being able to transfigure oneself without a wand. It's something purely physical, something biological!"

"Oh, what do you know about transfiguring, anyway," came Sirius' snarly rejoinder. "You can barely levitate a feather with your wand."

"I know a few good curses, if you'd like a hands-on demonstration! Ever read a comic called 'Transmetropoliton'? Someone showed me a curse that works just like Spider's Bowel Disrupter Gun..."

"I hardly think we require a demonstration, Ms. Oldwyn," Albus cut in as he entered the kitchen, a sparkle in his eye when he saw Sirius and Ana facing off across the thick wooden table.

Ana immediately stood and slipped her wand back into the holder in her robes. (She had put them on when they had retreated to the kitchen - it was significantly cooler in there than by the fire).

"Er... hi, Albus."

"Hallo, my sweet," he said and swept over to her to kiss her cheek. Sirius pointedly looked away.

"I am glad to see that Mr. Black has his vigour and energy back."

"Thank you, headmaster," Sirius said, feeling only slightly guilty for being jealous of Albus Dumbledore. After all, it had been a very long time ago when he had actually been able to see Ana naked _and ew he was not going to think that because Dumbledore was his headmaster and wrinkly and old and gross ew no._

Molly stepped forward to pinch Sirius' cheeks and slap his chest and do all the other embarrassing things that Moms did to make sure people were in tip-top shape. "You're looking much better, Sirius," she said with a smile as she finished her inspection. Then she turned to Ana. "Introduce me to your lady friend."

"Molly Weasely, Anathema Oldwyn," Sirius said obligingly and the two women shook hands.

"I'm Arthur's wife, dear. My, you're as pretty as Sirius says. Thank you so much for helping him. And for looking after our Harry."

"My honour, ma'am," Ana said and nodded. "Thank your daughter for leaving some robes here - I borrowed them without permission, I'm afraid."

"Oh, my, I didn't even notice. I'm sure Ginny won't mind."

Introductions done, the three humans tucked into a late snack and Remus came downstairs looking only slightly bed-rumpled to join them. Sirius and Ana indulged in some of the blood she had brought back from the butcher's, and all six stayed up until the wee hours of the morning trading old Hogwarts stories.

Ana even risked the belching-slugs curse to tell a particularly embarrassing story involving a young Albus Dumbledore who'd had too much firewhiskey, a broom, a Golden Snitch, and three dozen jars of pickles.

When the clock struck four, the three humans went on their way, satisfied that Sirius was well and that he'd made the right choice for himself.

The only thing left among them was to decide whether or not to invite Ana Oldwyn to join the Order of the Phoenix.

Ana was responsible enough to protect Harry when he was in her own house and help Sirius when she herself had harmed him, but would she be willing to fight just for the sake of Good, and not out of obligation?

Ana considered herself a Muggle, still – would she want to jump feet first into a Wizarding war?

* * *

Dorin sat in the far corner of the Leaky Cauldron, his hood pulled up over his head so his face was hidden in shadow. He was taking a short break from his night-time prowlings of Diagon Alley and its surrounding offshoots - so far, he'd had no luck. Diagon Alley was the only place in London to buy the supplies that any Witch could need, so it made sense that if he hung around here long enough, he was bound to find Anathema.

Eventually, everyone ran out of everything.

A hand placed a mug of something red and steaming down in front of him, and he raised his black, glittering eyes to human barkeep, Old Tom.

"I did not order this."

Tom smiled in a congenial sort of way. "I get your kind in here often enough to know. I don't mind at'tall, so longs as you don't make no trouble. It's on the house."

Dorin stared at the mug briefly. Then he pulled his hood back so as to afford the old innkeeper a warm, concerned smile and a sincere gaze. "You may be able to help me, then. I am looking for my ... progeny. I'm afraid we had a bit of a spat... entirely my fault." He sniffed dramatically and braced his elbows on the table top and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shuddered with barely repressed sobs. "She's about this tall, blackish hair, blue eyes... she took our dog with her, can you believe it? Like some sort of blues song. Big black mongrel." He sniffed again, wailing. "I love that dog!"

Tom placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I've seen her here. She was in here with a group of friends not long ago. She came in last week, actually. Had to dash off ... said she was looking for a friend. You?"

Dorin hiccoughed and nodded his head.

"Well, now, you just drink up, young man, and I'll do some asking around for you. We'll find your Lady Love."

"Thank you," Dorin burbled.

Old Tom left to back to his bar.

Dorin sat up and smiled, not a tear on his face.

"Too easy," he chuckled to himself, and downed the free blood in one go.

"Why is it always raining around here?" Kingsley Shaklebolt whinged as he pulled off his rain slicker, and dumped his umbrella in the stand by the front door. "Every damned time I've come by here in the last month, I get soaked!"

Tonks grinned back over her shoulder at him - "This is a house where two Vampires live. You really think they want a sunny day out there?"

Shaklebolt sighed. "I feel sorry for the neighbours. That old man with the cucumbers down the way looks more and more depressed each day. I think he may try to hang himself."

"Tonks! Kingsley!" Remus called from partway down the stairs. "Just in time for one of Molly's famous suppers." He kept a firm grip on the railing and carefully navigated the rest of the staircase. When he reached to bottom he graciously took Kingsley's offered arm of support, panting slightly.

"Almost the full moon?" the large man asked, concern in his gaze.

Remus nodded and smiled weakly. "Tonight. I have just enough time to have supper with you, then it's off to the basement with me. You'll have to have the meeting without me."

"What meeting?"

All three heads whipped around to find Ana standing in the doorway between the hallway and the dining room, a few meters back in the house. She came forward to help Kingsley with Remus.

"You look like shit, wolf-boy," she said as she pulled one of his arms around his shoulder. Remus chuckled weakly. "What meeting?"

"Ah, Arthur just wanted an impromptu Department meeting," Tonks said with a shrug. "Ministry stuff. So boring. I hate 'em and I wouldn't be here, but he bribed us with Molly's cooking."

Ana looked in the general direction of the ever-filling dining room. "Ah, I see. That's why all those people are here."

"Er, yeah."

The doorbell rang and seeing as Kreacher was busy in the kitchens, trying to keep Molly out of the late mistress' best china, Ana said, "I'll get it!" She passed Remus back to Shaklebolt, who packed them all into the dinning room.

When she opened the door she came face to face with a dour man with greasy black hair and a hooked nose. "Yes?" she said.

He 'harrumphed' and pushed past her. Stripping off his dripping black robes and flinging them at the hall tree, he glared at her. "You needn't keep the thundershower going if you don't plan on going outside. It's already past sunset."

Ana shrugged and chuckled at his efforts to tuck his slick black hair behind his ears. "It's not one of mine. Not Sirius' either. This one is genuine."

The man scowled even more, and stalked past her towards the dining room. As he rounded the corner she heard him snarl, "Here's the mutt's Wolfsbane Potion."

"Pleasant chap, eh?" she heard Sirius ask over her shoulder and suddenly felt his arms wrap around her waist.

Ana didn't allow herself to jump. "Where were you hiding?"

He motioned with his head to a door on the other side of the sitting room. "I was in the library, trying to avoid the smell of dinner. Eugh, makes me nauseous. When I heard the voice of our beloved Snivelleus, I had to come see him in all his soaked and miserable glory."

"_That_'s Professor Snape?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"And here I always thought Harry was exaggerating how unpleasant he was in his letters."

* * *

The three weeks between Sirius' turning and this meeting of the Order had gone by quickly. Ana spent many evenings with Sirius honing his weather-summoning skills and his ability to control his bat-shape. The first time he attempted to take flight he had ended up rolling all the way down the main staircase, snout-first.

As promised, Sirius respected Ana's romantic space and never attempted to force her into a potentially awkward situation. Remus and Sirius forgave each other and to Ana's horror and amusement, duplicated some of their best pranks from Hogwarts on her.

There were, unavoidably, the odd spat which arose from the less-human characteristics in the three more-or-less-permanent residents of Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, but inevitably they were solved, and usually with minimal shouting and furniture-breakage.

For the first time in sixteen years, Sirius Black was happy, healthy, and whole.

Harry owled them almost every day, and seemed to be doing well at Hogwarts. He had been named the Assistant Captain to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The Educational Edicts imposed upon the school the year before had all been lifted, and Harry's life-time ban from Quidditch had been burned.

Ron, Ana was told, had really grown into his role as Keeper, and Ginny had stepped down from Seeker to Chaser.

No one had told Harry anything about Sirius' condition - only that Ana had solved the problem and that Sirius was fine now. They decided to tell Harry while he and his friends visited Sirius and Remus at Grimmauld Place for the Christmas Holidays. That way, Harry would be present and consolable.

They felt horrible lying to him, but it was better than the boy having a sort of nervous breakdown in the middle of the fall term. For once Harry was having a _normal_ year at school, and they were determined to keep it that way.

Sirius was ecstatic that Harry would be coming to Grimmauld Place for Christmas - Harry had always stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays. Ana had agreed to stay at Grimmauld Place for that, or at least come back for it if she'd left already.

There was a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix tonight, which also, unfortunately, happened to correspond with the Full Moon. Ana had offered to spend the night in the basement with Remus when she had been told that the 'meeting' would just be a bunch of old Ministry busy-bodies getting together to gripe.

It suited most members of the Order just fine that she would be downstairs and out of the way. Albus intended to propose that she be included in the ranks of the secret army that was attempting to overthrow Voldemort's rising stranglehold on the Wizarding world... after everyone had filled their stomachs. He made a point of avoiding shop-talk during dinner. There was nothing less appetizing.

Albus thought Ana, with her singular talents, could be an asset. And while she had never firmly declared herself an agent of either the dark or the light, her affection for Sirius, Remus, Harry, and himself, would hopefully be enough for her to agree to step up.

After all, she hadn't hesitated when Grindelwald had been seen in the photograph beside the moustached dictator – the moment she had recognized the Dark Wizard, over sixty years ago now, she had warned Dumbledore.

For some members of the Order, this dinner was the first time they had seen the revived Sirius. Word had gotten out that he was no longer dead, of course, but only a few knew the truth of his escape from Beyond the Veil and his subsequent transformation into a Vampire.

During dinner, he let them speculate why he looked so healthy, breathing as little as possible to keep out the food smell, smiling and revealing nothing. By the time desert was served, Ana had already escorted Remus downstairs.

No one had seen the small black bat clinging to the back of Severus Snape's robe when he entered the house and tossed it at the hall tree. Not even Severus himself.


	12. The Rat

Part Twelve: "The Rat"

* * *

"You comfortable in there?"

Remus laughed weakly and continued to settle himself in the dark corner of the cage that stood in the cellar. It was large, taking up nearly the entirety of the basement space, and constructed of heavily charmed steel bars that a Werewolf would never be able to break. On the outside of the cage, far enough away to be inaccessible to a paw, but just within reach of a human arm, stood a thick, squat safe. Inside the safe was Remus' wand, and the key to the lock on the door.

He had shut the door after him, then placed both items in the safe and swung it closed.

"I guess you're used to it, eh?" Ana said from her place on the stairs. She was sitting on the last one, facing the cage, her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

"I've done it often enough," Remus admitted with a shrug. "I'm sore and uncomfortable in the morning from lying on the cold concrete, but if I put a bed in here, I would just smash it." He sighed and started to work on the buttons on the front of his robes. "The moon will be rising soon, it won't be long. Thankfully the potion Severus gave me will allow me to mostly keep my head when I'm in my changed state."

"Looked like it tasted foul."

He wrinkled his nose and peeled off his shirt. Underneath the casual shabbiness of his robes lay a surprisingly fit body. He was pale and slightly sunken with exhaustion and constant illness, but he should see the outline of a very clearly defined muscle structure. She guessed it was part of the natural advantageous of being a predator, and of his monthly physical workout when he was raging in his wolf form.

Remus Lupin was a stronger and more dangerous person than he liked to let on.

"It did taste foul," Remus finally answered, once he had pulled his arms out of his sleeves. "Avert your eyes please."

Ana did as asked, but could still hear Remus struggling in his relative weakness to disrobe. She heard his clothes hit the side of the cage and looked up to find him huddled in a corner on the floor in a very torn up and worn looking blanket. She went over to the side of the cage and pulled the clothing out and folded it neatly, setting it on top of the safe.

"Thanks," he croaked and lay his head back against the damp, thick wall.

Ana wrapped her hands around the bars of the cage and leaned her forehead against the cool metal. "I'm sorry, Remus. I'm sorry this had to happen to someone like you..."

"Me too," he sighed, then curled in on himself, his muscles clenching. He sat there, perfectly tensed and motionless for about thirty seconds. Then he flopped to the side, exhaling in a tremendous growling scream of agony.

"_Remus_!" Ana cried, but had enough sense to back away from the bars of the cage. The shadows in the back of the room were too deep for her to be able to discern what was happening, but she could hear all of his panting groans and screaming gasps as his body broke apart and reformed.

Ana sat back down at the foot of the stairs, arms wrapped around herself, eyes wide. She didn't want to watch, but she couldn't look away.

When she had been in that awful school, they had locked up the werewolves during the full moon – shackled them to the ground and lined the cuffs with silver. If the poor wretches struggled, they were burned badly on the pure metal.

Ana had thought the treatment barbaric.

But compared to the way Remus was thrashing, Ana wondered if tying a lycanthrope down wouldn't be better for them – assuming they didn't wrench something to strangle themselves in their struggles. Remus' hands and feet were smacking off the unforgiving cement beneath him, his whole body shuddering in wracking spasms, and more than once Ana heard a sharp thud and feared Remus had shattered his skull.

It was no wonder that Remus always moved slowly, carefully, as if he was sore and exhausted. The bruises and scratches he obtained from the transformation alone must last him the month afterwards. There's no telling what kind of permanent damage years and years worth of this torture must have done to his frail human body.

There was a hot, wet sound as things under Remus' skin slid around in his body, and sharp snaps as his bones broke and shifted, shattered and re-grew to accommodate his new four-legged form.

The sounds of human agony crescendoed in a loud animal snarl and suddenly a large, tawny coloured wolf padded - no, _stalked_ - out of the darkness, amber eyes blazing. His lips were pulled back to reveal long sharp teeth and he was crouched low, eyes trained on Ana.

She felt a thrill of fear tickle her spine - for the first time in many years, she remembered what it felt like to be the prey.

The wolf came straight to the edge of the cage and hunched down, not sitting, tensed to spring at her, still snarling. The noise was a constant rumble in the wolf's deep chest, its long slender throat, at the quivering tip of its muzzle.

The wolf was watching her, testing her. She had done this same dance of gazes with Remus many times since she had met him - the wolf in him and the Vampire in her testing, dodging, circling, never quite exuding any force. It usually ended in one or both of them looking away uncomfortably and laughing apologetically.

This time the wolf _pushed_, and Ana found herself startled and gaping.

_Come here_, its eyes said. _Come here, little girl._

Ana closed her eyes and pressed fingers to her temples, willing away the mounting pressure behind her eyes. Was this how Little Red Riding Hood had felt? The irresistible call of something so wild, so dominating, something so purely masculine?

The snarl raised in pitch and Ana looked up at the wolf - he was standing, baring his teeth, his eyes commanding. _Come now!_

Ana stood.

She walked over to the side of the cage, just far away enough that the wolf, his muzzle stuck between the bars, wasn't able to anything more than brush the tip of his wet, snuffling nose against her knuckles.

_This is Remus,_ she had to remind herself. _Don't fall for the wolf's tricks - he wants to attack. This is really Remus and you can't let yourself be taken in._

The wolf growled in frustration and snapped, trying to get its teeth into flesh, clawing at the side of the cage that dared to get between it and a potential meal.

"Stop it," she commanded the wolf, intentionally meeting its eyes. If the power struggle present in them while he was human was stronger in him not that he was a wolf, Ana figured that maybe it would go both ways. The wolf whined and its ears pressed against the side of his head. "Stop it," she said again. "_Obey me._"

The wolf lay down and turned, revealing its belly to her, signalling his submission by exposing his vitals.

Ana crouched and slowly reached a hand through the bars, ready to yank it back any second. The wolf only watched her. "Don't bite me," she ordered it and the wolf closed its eyes and allowed her to reach out and scratch his tummy. The tail wagged once.

"Look at me," she told it, and the wolf rolled over and sat, like a great unmoving sphinx, to meet her gaze. "Remus, can you hear me?" The wolf lowered its head, snarling, and when it looked back up, its eyes were no longer a beastly yellow, but the cold clear husky-blue of Remus Lupin. The eyes were wide, confused... human.

"Remus, is that you?"

The wolf cocked its head, pricking one ear towards her, then nodded.

The very human gesture of a head nod on a wolf was disconcerting. Ana gasped. "Well, this is certainly a discovery," Ana admitted. She wondered if other vampires knew they could do this. If a vampire really could control a werewolf like this, bring the human mind up to the surface, keep the human in control of his animalistic counterpart, the advantage to the wizarding communities could be uncountable.

There would be fewer werewolf attacks, for one. Wizards could study willing werewolves and perhaps come up with a potion more potent and useful than the disgusting thing Remus'd had to drink.

The wolf at her feet made a strange growling sound that sounded like an attempt to speak. Ana crouched down and tentatively touched the top of Remus' head, right between his ears.

He closed his eyes and made a purring sound.

"This could be useful, too," Ana told the wolf beside her. "This could be really important."

"Isn't it just?"

The voice that rang out from the stairway behind her was thick, dark, and arrogant. Ana recognized it in a second. She gasped and jumped to her feet, spinning to meet the man from whom it came with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Behind her the wolf sprang to his feet and snarled warningly.

The man stood on the bottom step. He was standing half in the shadows, his weight resting over one hip and his arms crossed over his chest. He was at least a head and a half taller than Ana and very strongly, if lithely, built. He was clothed entirely in black, so that it appeared as if he was wrapped in shadow.

"Dorin..." she breathed slowly.

"Master," he corrected with a grin and peeled himself out of the shadows. Ana was rooted to the cement floor of the cellar with fear. He walked right past the safe and placed two fingers under the Ana's chin, lifting her face to his. "You have grown even more lovely in my absence, my Anathema," he cooed, ignoring the growls of the wolf, which were ever increasing in volume. "It seems foolish, now, that I ever gave up on you."

He held her gaze in his, trapped, forcing her will down. "_Obey me_," he said and the only resistance she was able to offer was a strangled whine and a weak shove, her ability to fight back hampered by his gaze as much as by her absolute and utter shock at seeing him.

Remus the wolf barked loudly, threateningly.

Dorin turned his head towards the beast. "As for you-" he met the creature's eyes and immediately the blue died, bleeding away into a glowing, vicious amber. "You are mine to control, now, Werewolf. I am your Master and you will do as I say." The wold snarled half-heartedly. "Do as I say or I leave you to die in that filthy cage."

The wolf lifted its head to signal its submission to him. Dorin smiled and raised his free hand - with a gesture the lock on the cage made a snapping sound and fell to the ground. The wolf butted against the door and in a single leap was free. It howled, tongue lolling to the side, and turned to face its new Master.

"Upstairs," the man said, black eyes glittering, his own fangs bared. Slowly, the crimson bled into his gaze, until his black eyes were entirely red and glowing. "Clear my path - kill as many as you like, but follow close after me."

The wolf howled again and loped up the stairs. Dorin grinned as heard the sound of splintering wood, snarls, and the raised screams of the humans above.

"No," his progeny protested weakly.

"Yes." He smiled at her, charming and terrifying all at once. "Now come, my wayward beauty. I still own that soul of yours, and the Dark Lord has need of it." He waved a hand over her face and Ana felt herself slipping into unconsciousness. The last she heard was his chuckle. "Aren't you glad I let you live, now?"

* * *

Peter Pettigrew sat on the other side of the bars from the seething, naked, Remus Lupin. His former friend had ceased screaming at him, pressing his torso up against the bars, clawing madly for the traitor.

Now he hunched down in the corner of the cramped cage in the middle of sitting room of the Riddle House, scratched, bloody, and glaring. Peter couldn't even tell if he was folded in on himself out of cold, or just modesty.

Could one be modest when one was so angry?

"If Voldemort has done anything to Ana, I swear to fucking God, Wormtail, I'll fucking rip out your throat!" Remus had screamed as soon as he'd regained a set of human vocal chords at dawn.

Peter had just stayed in the chair by the fire, staring at the broken man he had once called 'friend'.

... had the Marauders really every been his friends? They helped him with his homework, but teased him mercilessly about his inability to find a girlfriend. They never played their pranks on him, but sometimes they seemed to forget about him. James and Sirius would be talking intensely and then Peter would say something and Sirius would look up and blink and say, "Oh, Peter. I thought you'd gone off to bed."

At first Peter didn't mind it. Then he resented it. Then he got bitter about it.

Then the letter had come. He didn't know who it was from. It was on white paper with black edging and it had been handed to him discreetly by Lucius Malfoy as the taller boy had passed him in the halls in their final year.

The letter had promised him things. Power. Fame. Magics beyond his dreams. Wealth, if he wanted it. And a _place_ - a place to _belong_. A place where he was _respected_. A place where people _payed attention._

The letter had promised Peter Pettigrew everything he had ever wanted.

All he had to do was tell some people a few little white lies, and the world would be at his feet.

He hadn't known that the Dark Lord would kill James and Lily. Peter thought he would just kill the screaming, smelly baby. At first it had scared him, and he had worried that he would be next.

But the Dark Lord loved Peter, protected him. By the time Sirius had cornered Peter, he'd made his choice. He would do anything to remain loyal to Voldemort, even fake his own death – even cut off his own finger to do it.

Sitting in the chair by the fire in the sitting room of the Riddle House, nearly twenty years later, the glow of the blaze reflecting off his silver hand, his former best friend trapped in a cage and howling at him like a mad man, Peter looked down at his feet.

There was no world by them.

There was no power.

There was no respect, and no friends, and no women.

All Peter saw when he looked down at his feet were the feet of a man who had sold out the people who were supposed to have meant the most to him. Who had given their son to a Dark Wizard... the same Wizard who then cut off his own hand. The feet of a man who had framed a man who was supposed to be his friend for thirteen murders, who had spent the last seventeen years his life pretending to be someone's pet...

... he really hadn't moved very far from being Scabbers, had he?

Now he was someone else's pet.

Peter closed his eyes and clenched his fists. But he was going to _matter_. One day. Eventually. The Dark Lord would see - see his potential, see his loyalty, see all the good things he had done for him. And then the Dark Lord would reward him. Lord Voldemort would prevail and then Peter would be rewarded.

Peter stood and walked out of the room, ignoring Remus' shrieking threats.

He was just a Werewolf. A monster. A mongrel. A tool. A nonentity.

Nothing at all like Peter.

* * *

Remus had awakened... no, not 'awakened', rather, 'come to his senses'... to find himself huddled, nude and cold and vulnerable, on the carpets of a strange sitting room, dried blood on his face and under his fingernails, and at the feet of the most feared man in existence.

Lord Voldemort had laughed and erected the cage around him with a lazy wave of his wand. "To think... what an serendipitous find, Dorin. You please me."

A man to You-Know-Who's left inclined his head slightly, and Remus snarled at him, the wolf buried inside recognizing him. _Master! Vampire!_ But Remus was not the wolf and Remus would not submit to a Death Eater.

"The last living ally of that fool James Potter. One by one I have destroyed my enemies – I brought your wormtail to me. I killed the Potters. My Death Eaters have twice destroyed Sirius Black, and will a third and final time. And now, I have the Werewolf Remus Lupin as my personal hound."

"I will never serve you, Monster!" Remus had spat.

Dorin had chuckled. "You have little choice in the matter."

Voldemort had then turned a lazy red eye to Dorin, effectively dismissing Remus as unimportant, which had made the Werewolf bristle. "And the other?"

Dorin raised a lazy hand and another Death Eater approached the Dark Lord's chair and dumped a lifeless body at his feet. Black Cherry hair fanned out on the red carpet and her skin was as pale as milk.

A large gash in her neck glistened wetly.

Her skin was ragged and torn, as if someone had bitten her flesh, and then pulled on the wound with his or her teeth. Dried blood painted her shoulders and the whole right side of her body a rusty brown.

"Ana...!" Remus gasped, his fists clenching around the bars of his cage. He'd tried to pry them apart but had not been strong enough. The change had left him weak, ill, exhausted. His rage gave him the precious adrenaline he required, but it wasn't enough. _Wasn't enough._ "What have you done!"

Dorin's eyes glittered as he addressed the Werewolf. "Nothing you haven't wanted to do to her yourself, Werewolf. I merely got over-enthusiastic. I haven't seen the little bitch in nearly a century you understand - there was a little pent up frustration I had to work out."

Remus clenched his eyes shut and rested his forehead against the cold metal bars.

Voldemort had laughed -_the bastard_- then swept out of the room, taking his Death Eaters and the unconscious Ana with him. Only Peter, (_Wormtail_, he corrected himself, this was no longer the Peter he used to know,) stayed behind. He took his Lord's seat by the fire and stared at Remus with wide eyes.

Remus exhausted himself shouting curses and trying to get at the traitorous rat. When he was finally too weary to move anymore, when his adrenalin had finally run out, he had sat back against the corer of the cage and tried not to weep.

There was dried blood on his hands, on his face. He didn't want to think about whose. There had been a whole dining room full of humans upstairs... to his wolf side, it would have been a banquet.

Gods, he hoped everyone was alright.

It was almost a comforting hope. Better than hoping to get out of this place any time soon. Better than hoping that Ana would be okay. Hoping he hadn't harmed anyone was an easier hope because the people involved were far away.

Remus had a feeling he wouldn't be getting out of this place alive.

* * *

Ana groaned, eye lids twitching against the light on the other side of them. She tried to raise a hand to block the incoming light and was unable to. Something cold and heavy was pressing against her wrist, binding her down. She cracked an eyelid at the hand over her head and frowned - a heavy manacle kept her attached to the headboard of whose-ever bed she was in.

The skin of her neck felt itchy and raw.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened to her – Dorin had come, forced her to fall asleep… she remembered a sharp pain in the side of her neck, a feeling of helplessness, of horror.

In her sleep she had felt hands all over her body, in places she didn't want them, a hot mouth, a slithering tongue, sharp teeth. She had been unable to wake up, to fight him off, to scream, _anything_. And then it had passed and the darkness grew heavy again and she slept without dreaming.

Now she woke fully in a strange room in a strange bed, handcuffed to the headboard.

It was the kind of manacle made to keep a Vampire in place - too heavy and at an awkward angle - she'd never get the leverage to snap the damn thing.

She tested her other hand and found it free... more or less. This one was trapped under the weight of a body. Turning her head slowly on the pillow, she was startled to find herself staring into glittering black eyes.

"Allo, precious," Dorin said gently. Underneath the light sheets that covered them, Ana could tell that they were both totally nude. His legs were tangled in hers and his arms wrapped around her middle.

"Get off me..." she said quietly, slowly, trying to put force behind the words and failing.

He chuckled. "You were always cranky come sunset." He leaned forward and tried to kiss her lips. Ana turned her head aside and he ended up kissing the underside of her jaw instead.

"Mmmm," he sighed and kept going, lips trailing along her neck to that sensitive spot where he had first ripped into her flesh all those centuries ago.

"Dorin," she gasped and tried to wriggle away from him.

"Master," he corrected, nipping her hard enough on the shoulder to draw blood for her transgression.

"M-master," she whimpered. "My hand..."

"Ah," Dorin reached up and summoned a key into his hand, then unlocked her wrist. He had always been casual and flippant about his use of magic. Show-off-y. It had put Ana off it. Ana pulled her arm to her side, trying to rub the soreness out of her abused limb.

Dorin continued his exploration of her neck and shoulders and she wriggled around to face him. He smiled for all of three seconds, before she shoved him away and off the far side of the bed. She stood and pulled one of the light sheets off the top and wrapped herself in it. "Where's Remus?" she growled.

Dorin's dark head popped up over the side of the mattress, the corners of his eyes crinkled up in amusement. "Tut, tut, love." He held up a hand and in it was one of the Honeyduke's Blood Lollies that had been in her pants pockets. "These are simply remarkable. Where did you get them?"

"Where's Remus?" she asked again and Dorin sighed, sounding disappointed, and hoisted himself up onto the bed, relaxing back against the pillows. When he didn't answer, Ana turned and moved to the door - it was locked, and she could feel the electro-static buzz of a charm keeping it locked. She whipped back around to face him, one hand holding up the sheet. "Let me out!"

"I had so hoped that this would be easy," Dorin pouted, unwrapping the lolly and popping it into his mouth and lifting a hand. He made a 'come hither' gesture and she had no choice. Ana felt herself moving towards him against her will. She fought it, but it was no use - she knew what this was.

This was his power.

She wasn't sure if it was magic or the unfathomable bond between Sire and Progeny, but she had felt its pull before, many many years ago, and knew that she wouldn't be able to resist it.

And that terrified her.

Dorin reached out once she'd stopped at the side of the bed, and tugged her onto the mattress. He flipped gracefully onto her, pulling away the sheet that protected her modesty, tapping her in a cage of limbs.

"Listen here, pet," he said softly, his nose brushing against hers in a mock sign of twisted affection. "You and me, we're going to ally ourselves with the greatest Dark Power this world has ever seen. I already promised big bad Voldie, you see. Already promised that my childe, the Vampire involved in the defeat of Grindewald himself, would come to his side and obey him unquestioningly. In return, he'll let us do and have anything we want in the new world. Imagine - the whole of humanity, our hunting ground. Muggles as far as the eye can see."

"No," Ana said, closing her eyes. "No, I won't."

Dorin sighed and leaned down to bite her bottom lip gently, once, before continuing. "Had a feeling you might say that, pet - always were too much on the straight-and-narrow. See, here's the thing. I'm not giving you a choice. Obey me or the Werewolf dies. Simple as that."

"You wouldn't!" Ana cried, attempting to throw him off, struggling now.

"I would and I can and we both know it."

She ceased her flailing, head turned to the side. Tears came then, tears she didn't want, silent and red and betraying a weakness she never wanted anyone to see.

Dorin's soft, moist tongue followed the line of those tears, lapping at her cheek like an affectionate puppy. A perverted, twisted, puppy. "Mmmm," he sighed and settled his weight against her, pressing his face into her neck, taking a long deep breath, smelling her hair. "It really has been a long time since I've had you to myself. What _was_ I thinking but... ah... who is this I smell on you? A mortal man?" He sniffed again. "Why it's a..." he trailed off and lifted himself up, staring into her eyes. When she looked away he took her face in a cruel hand and forced her gaze back. "You bitch. You made a childe, didn't you?"

Ana said nothing.

"Well..." Dorin muttered, and let her face go slowly. "Well, that can be turned to my advantage, too. Everything can be turned to my advantage."

* * *

"We need to think about moving, Sirius. Grimmauld place isn't _safe_ anymore."

Sirius simply sat on the wingbacked chair in his bedroom, staring glassy-eyed at the fire. Molly Weasely looked back over her shoulder at Albus Dumbledore with a 'help me' expression. Albus merely raised his eyebrows. Molly turned back to Sirius.

"Look, even if Vol... You-Know-Who doesn't know this is our headquarters, he knows where you are now... Sirius. He knows you're alive."

Sirius snorted. Without tearing his gaze from the fire, Sirius asked, his voice dull and dead, "How's Mad-Eye?"

Albus cleared his throat. "His wooden leg was bitten. He's fine."

"And Shaklebolt?"

Molly blew out a sigh of exasperation. "We got the charms on him quick enough, he shouldn't be infected. Sirius, please, everyone has already left. We need to find somewhere else for you to go."

The young Vampire's fingers curled around the armrest of the chair so tightly the wood began to groan in protest.

"Sirius..."

"No."

"Sirius!"

"_No_!" He jumped abruptly to his feet, his voice low and dark and full of threat. He kicked the chair and it skidded backwards and hit the wall before toppling over. He stood there, fists clenched, body trembling with suppressed rage, head lowered so that his hair shielded his eyes. A hint of crimson could be see behind the hair and his eyeteeth, when he spoke, could be seen - they had become fangs. "Ana will bring him back. They will. Both. Come. _Back_."

Molly threw up her hands in frustration and turned away.

Albus took a small step forward and laid a spidery, gentle hand on his former student's trembling shoulder.

"Of course they will," Albus said calmly, "Even without his wand, Remus is a formidable Wizard. And there is more to Ana than she would care to admit, I think. But they are both very intelligent individuals, Sirius, and we both know that intelligent individuals would not be foolish enough to return here."

Sirius slumped, head bowed. Defeated.

"Is there anywhere you can go, Sirius? Somewhere safe, somewhere Voldemort does not know of?"

"I could... go to Hogwarts...?"

Albus thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. "He would expect you to be there. He would target the school if you were."

"Right... can't do that..." Sirius sounded lost, his voice hazy. In one instant everything had been taken away from him. His Master, his lover, his best friend, his home, his happiness... everything. "...Ana."

Albus exchanged a look with Molly. "I'm sure she's fine, Sirius."

"No, I mean..." he looked up, his eyes a clear grey. "I'll go to Ana's. She has a house in a Muggle neighbourhood. No one will look for me there."

Albus nodded, a small smile pulling at the side of his lips. "Right, that sounds reasonable. Take the few things you treasure, Sirius - I don't know if Grimmauld Place will be standing by tomorrow. We need to be swift, lest the Death Eaters come before we get out."

Molly bit her lip. "You think he'll send Death Eaters here?"

"I would be surprised if they weren't already on their way. They won't know the exact location, but they'll know the street, at least."

Molly nodded and hurried out of the room, calling for Arthur.

Sirius, who had gone to his wardrobe and had started to stuff some clothing into a satchel, paused when he got to a ratty old brown sweater. "This is Remus'... Kreacher must have put it in the wrong closet..." he pulled out the sweater and buried his face in it. "Remus..."

Albus went over to him and pulled the sweater from Sirius' grasp. He folded it gently and put it in the bag. "We'll get him back."

"This is all my fault," Sirius said, eye squeezed shut to keep back the tears. "I told James that it should be Peter. I convinced him. I stayed up all night with him getting dead, stinking drunk, planning it like it was one of our stupid, childish _pranks._.. If I had just... just... I wish it had been me. I would have _died_ for James and Lily. Peter should have died for James and Lily. That's the way it should have been. I should be _dead_ and Harry should have his real parents."

"It's not your fault at all, Sirius. You did what you thought was best. None of us knew."

Sirius, without warning, put his fist through the wardrobe door. The wood splintered and cracked and flew apart under the force of the blow.

"I'm going to kill him," was he said when he shook the splinters out of his fist. Then he grabbed the strap of the satchel and stalked out of the room.

Left alone with the wreckage, Albus sighed and put his hands in his pockets. "I think he already is dead..."


	13. Photograph

Part Thirteen: "Photographs"

* * *

The door had been locked, but a simple 'alohamora' fixed that.

Sirius stealthily slipped into Ana's house through the back door, careful to only turn on the kitchen light. She had not been here in nearly a month and a half, and yet the state in which the kitchen had been left made his heart wrench painfully.

It looked like she had just walked out of here an hour ago.

Her car keys had been tossed onto the counter.

There were papers and a pen on the kitchen table - she had been composing letters.

Her laptop was still open, plugged into the wall, the screen displaying numerous tropical fish obliviously swimming back and forth across a bubbling black void.

Beside that sat a mug. A trail of insects, ants and little fruit flies, swarmed the mug. It was still half filled with decaying blood. The stench made Sirius' gorge rise and he quickly tossed the rotten blood down the sink and washed it away by turning on the taps for a few seconds.

He dropped his satchel at the foot of the stairs and moved into the living room. There were a few cobwebs in the drapery, and a fine layer of dust had settled over everything. He flicked the drapes to the side slightly, making a big enough crack in the curtains to be able to look up and down Privet Drive.

He sighed with relief when no Death Eaters or Dementers were visible.

Sirius had Apparated directly into Ana's back yard. Hopefully, no one knew where it was that Ana lived, or this would be the next place they looked for him after Hogwarts - Sirius was afraid for Harry and his friends, and prayed that Snape would be able to convince the Dark Lord that Sirius wasn't there.

Sirius changed into his dog form and started sniffing around the house, upstairs and down, in every room and corner, to make sure no one had been here since she had left. He smelt nothing but Harry, Ana, and his former, living self. Satisfied that the premises were secure, he flopped down on her red chesterfield.

Clouds of dust rose from the cushions, but he ignored them. Switching back into his human form and picking up the remote control, he turned on the TV and set the volume low. He wasn't in the mood to think right now - thinking would just make him angrier and more depressed.

The monotonous tone of the Muggle newscaster soon had him yawning and Sirius allowed himself to slip sideways and bury his face in one of the throw pillows.

They smelled like Ana.

* * *

The sunlight was doing it's damndest to get through the curtains and stab at him when the knocking on the door woke Sirius up.

He jumped to his feet, suddenly alert, confused, disoriented... it took him a moment to remember where he was. Groaning - the clock on the TV said it was only nine in the morning - and running a hand through his hair, scrubbing at the fuzz on his chin, he went to the front door.

The small, polite raps were becoming more urgent. He looked though the peep hole and groaned. Looking back at him, her horseface scrunched up as she kept looking back over her shoulder at her own house, was Petunia Dursley.

"Ms. Oldwyn?" she called out and Sirius seriously considered just walking away from the door. "Ms. Oldwyn, I can see your shadow in the curtains. I know you're there. Ms. Oldwyn?"

Sirius wrenched open the door, making sure to stay in the shadows away from the morning sun, and growled, "What?"

Petunia jumped and snapped her mouth shut. For a brief, glorious second, it appeared as if she would be too surprised to talk. The moment passed and Sirius had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Is Ms. Ana home? I didn't see her return last night, and you know, we've all been very worried about her - just up and left one night, no one ever saw her come back - but the lights were on and the curtain was open a bit, and I wanted to make sure she was okay, invite her over to tea and, I say... don't I know you?"

Sirius grinned to himself - she had probably seen his 'wanted' posters four years ago.

"Are you Ms. Oldwyn's husband?" she pressed, pushing past Sirius and into the house. "She said she wasn't married, but you know how often young ladies elope now adays. And it wouldn't be proper to live with someone you're not married to, anyway." Before Sirius could stop her she had shown herself into the kitchen and was starting to root around in the cupboards for sugar and tea. "Tea, tea..." she was humming to herself.

She was in for a rude surprise - Ana had nothing in her pantry but a few cans of soup and the fixings for the sandwiches in the fridge that she had been using to feed Harry and himself. Even that had gone mouldy. Except for the odd pot of soup, she had never cooked because her Vampire nose couldn't stand the smell of it.

Sirius closed his eyes and pushed down the wave of agony that threatened to crush his heart. He had been human the last time he had been in this house. He had been alive. He had been with Harry and Ana and he'd been _happy._

He _would_ get that feeling back, no matter what...

"Where is the tea?" Petunia finally asked, turning to him.

"Ana doesn't drink tea," Sirius said, following her into the kitchen and closing the laptop. He picked up her keys from the counter and shoved them in his pockets, then swept the careless sheets of paper up into a neat pile. "And she's not here, and she's not my wife."

Petunia's lips puckered. "Not married? Sir, a decent woman wouldn't live alone with a bachelor. Especially a degenerate with long hair like you."

Sirius suppressed a growl of frustration.

"You have got to have one of the most selective memories a Muggle can possibly have," he snarled, turning to face her. Petunia jumped and pressed herself back against the cabinets. "You know perfectly well that Ana is a Witch, and in fact, is not human. Yet you root around in her cupboards looking for tea. You accuse her of low morals when you have absolutely no fucking clue how much she's done to keep people like you from ending up dead!" he waved a finger at her face. "You have no clue how much _any_ of us have given up just so you can sit there every summer and insult your nephew and never know that Harry has almost died, has watched people he cared about die, keeping this world safe for you and your vapid, bull-headed husband and your little oiker of a son!"

"I, beg your... y-your pardon..." Petunia began, attempting to pull herself up and infuse her terrified tone with indignation.

"Get out!" Sirius roared and she paused for half a second, eyes wide like a doe who knows that the wolf is within lunging distance. "Get _out_!" he roared again and she dashed around him and out the front door, not even pausing to shut it behind her.

Sirius let out a heavy sigh, and all his frustration with it.

Avoiding the patch of sunlight filtering into the front hall he carefully pressed himself against the wall and toed the door shut, then locked it. He went upstairs and stripped off his old, wrinkled, smelly clothes and crawled between the cool sheets of Ana's bed.

All he wanted to do was sleep, and say asleep for the next century or so.

* * *

Petunia Dursley slammed her front door shut and leaned back against it, panting, choking down the terror.

Vernon wouldn't be home from work for hours.

Her shaking knees forced her to sit on the bottom of the steps, and she covered her face with her hands.

What had she been thinking? She _knew_ that Ana was one of those ...freaks. Knew that she couldn't possibly be anything but trouble. Why on earth did she go over there? Because the Joneses may have been watching and she wanted to prove what a good woman she was by caring for her neighbours?

And could being a good woman in the eyes of her neighbours perhaps make up for how empty her life felt, spending day after day cooking, cleaning, being yelled at by her husband or son or glared at by her nephew?

Her nephew...

Her eyes trailed up the stairs to the upper hallway. Harry's room.

She knew he didn't take all of his books with him this year. She had heard him cursing under his breath to himself in the dead of night when he thought she had been asleep about needing a 'trunk like Moody's' to be able to fit everything. In the end he had decided to leave a few things behind.

_You're really that clueless eh? Never even glanced at your nephew's copy of 'Great Wizards of Our Time' have you? I suggest you do - I'll give you a hint. Check under 'Potter, Harry'._

Petunia crept quietly up the stairs and into his room, looking around as if she expected the boy to appear out of thin air and start cursing her for even being in here. When she realized the coast was clear, and that she was being silly, she straightened and took a good look around.

She had never been in Harry's room, not since he had taken it away from Dudley.

The walls were covered with pictures and posters in which the figures moved all by themselves, and banners and scarves and letters from more friends than she realized Harry had.

One entire wall was devoted to red and gold banners. A small pennant reading "Gryffindor, House Cup Winners" occupied the centre of a mass of other pennants and an old red and gold tie.

Petunia realized she didn't even know what house Harry belonged to at his school. Her sister, Lily, had been a... what was the word? Her ties were always red and gold too, and she thought she could recall a lion on a patch somewhere.

On Harry's desk sat numerous hand-made cards, all thank-you letters from what appeared to be students for doing various things - "Finding the Philosopher's Stone," "Rescuing us from The Camber of Secrets", "Saving the Muggle-borns," and a few others. Some were written in elaborate hand writing, some with childish stick drawings of owls and broomsticks.

Petunia moved to that wall, staring in awe at the photographs. She had seen Wizard photos before, of course, but still... and that had been so long ago. Lily'd had them. She used to bring loads of them home with her on her summer holidays, proudly pasting them into albums and sitting with their parents in the kitchen and telling them all about her foolish classes. Petunia had sat with them at first, but then... Then she had realized how _not-normal_ it was and began to avoid her sister entirely.

She had refused to go to Lily's wedding, even though their parents had gone. _Unnatural_. The place would had been filled with Witches and Wizards and demons of every kind and it was _just not right._

Lily had not been invited to her wedding.

When Harry was born, even though they were no longer talking, Lily had sent her sister a moving photograph of James and herself and little baby Harry. In the photo Lily kept making Harry's hand wave. If Petunia watched long enough, she would see James lean over and steal a kiss.

If it were a photograph of her and Vernon, the photo-Vernon wouldn't kiss her.

She still had that photo somewhere – inside a sock, she thought, in the back of her closet. As much as her sister had been a freak, she had still been Petunia's sister, and it was the last photograph she had received before... before...

Petunia clenched her lips and tried not to cry. God, she _missed_ her sister.

No, she had made her choice. Lily was a freak. Her husband was a freak. Her child and all his friends were freaks. The moment she had read the letter in emerald ink that had carried the awful news, Petunia had decided never to mourn for Lily.

Yet here she was, standing the middle of her sister's son's room, and all she could think of was how much she wanted to hold Lily. The man in Ana Oldwyn's house had said that Petunia had no idea what people had given up to keep Petunia and her family alive and safe – had Lily sacrificed herself to protect someone, Petunia wondered?

She returned her focus to the wall, brushing at her cheeks as if to scrub away any thought of tears.

Freak as he was, Harry was also of her blood... and she knew next to nothing about him. He had lived under her roof for sixteen years and she didn't even know what his favourite foods were.

Among the photographs was one of Harry with two other people - a girl and boy his own age. The boy with the red hair she recognized. That would be the Weasel child who had come to pick Harry up a few summers ago. The other was a young lady, her front teeth sort of large and her face open and bright. Her hair was frizzy and brown, like she didn't much care about maintaining her appearance.

The three children had their arms around each other, and Petunia's throat closed slightly as she realized that Harry was smiling in this picture. She couldn't recall the last time Harry had smiled in the Dursley house. The figures in the photo were offering peace signs and waves to the viewer and Harry was actually laughing and smiling. His head was covered with bandages and his fingers were scraped and bloody. There was a healing scratch on his cheek. The caption below read - "two days after I killed the Basilisk, go me!"

Other photos littered the wall - one of a very young Harry among a group of much taller students, all clad in scarlet with protection pads strapped onto their wiry bodies and brooms in their hands. "Gryffindor Quidditch Team, First Year" the caption said. In another person's had writing was scrawled, "Youngest Seeker in a Century!", followed by a "Sod off, Ron," in the first handwriting.

Petunia realized that until just then, she had not known what her nephew's handwriting had looked like.

There were more pictures of this "Quidditch" team, Harry getting taller each year, one group photo for each year. Some were in action, and Petunia watched in horror as Harry dove on his flying broom like a madman after something small and golden, caught it in his mouth, then spat it up. There was no sound to the photos, but she could see the crowd behind him going wild.

Harry was very skilled, she realized, watching enough of the photos.

There was another dynamic one of Harry and a blond man with a large, false but sparkling grin. Harry, who can'tve been more than twelve in the picture, kept trying to skulk out of the frame and the man would grab him by the collar and haul him back, smiling, oblivious of Harry's scowl, and pointing to the signature on the photo below:

"Don't let fame get to your head, Harry! Always be cool and collected like me! Gilderoy Lockheart"

Petunia's eyes flicked over to the desk where about seven books with "by Gilderoy Lockheart" emblazoned in gold on their spines lay neatly piled, collecting dust, appearing as if they had never been opened.

Above those was a worn and well-loved book whose spine read "Great Wizards of Our Time" by H.I. Storian. This was the book Ana Oldwyn had accused her of never reading. With shaking hands Petunia pulled it off the shelf and sat on her nephew's bed. Flipping carefully through the pages she realized it was arranged alphabetically.

With shaking fingers she found the page "Potter, Harry."

There was a picture of her nephew in the top left hand corner, looking slightly disgruntled. His fringe had been pulled back to reveal his scar, and he kept trying to pat his hair down to hide it, but it wasn't working. Underneath it said:

**Potter, Harry James.**

1981 -

The only known Wizard to have survived _The Killing Curse_. Son of **James Godric Potter** and **Lily Violet Potter** (nee Evans). His parents were known supporters of the Light during the _First War_ with **He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named**, (see V, Lord, pg 835-962) and subsequently became targets for You-Know-Who's army of _Death Eaters_. The Potters went into hiding in _Godric's Hollow_ in October of 1981. On Hallowe'en Eve of 1981, **Sirius Black**, (see Black, Sirius, pg 103) a school mate of James Potter and the _Secret Keeper_ to the small family's whereabouts, told his Master, the Dark Lord, of their whereabouts. (It was later deduced that Black had been a long-time traitor and the lieutenant of You-Know-Who and had been since his days at _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_). You-Know-Who-Himself ambushed the Potters in their home, killing James and Lily and turning the _Killing Curse_ on Harry. For reasons that are unknown, Harry was not killed and escaped the potent curse with only his distinctive lightning-bolt shaped scar (see above photograph). You-Know-Who vanished shortly thereafter, his power broken. He is assumed dead. Sirius Black was cornered on a street in Muggle London by **Peter Pettigrew** (see Pettigrew, Peter, pg 536), and with a single curse killed Pettigrew and thirteen _Muggle_ bystanders. He was captured by the _Aurors_ and is currently serving a life sentence in _Azkaban Prison_. Harry Potter himself, although the public is assured by **Albus Dumbledore** (see Dumbledore, Albus, pg 213-315) that he is still alive and well, has also vanished from the Wizarding world. Rumors of him living in a suburb of Muggle London have yet to be proven, although many Wizards and Witches claim to have seen him on the streets. Harry Potter, currently in _Gryffindor House_ at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, is also noted as being the youngest _Quidditch_ _Seeker_ in a century, never having lost a game he's played in to date. Also, at the end of his first year at Hogwarts (June, 1991), Potter reportedly faced down the possessed body of his Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher and bested him by means unknown, to rescue **Nicholas Flammel's** Philosopher's Stone. The following year, after a rash of Muggle-Born children being attacked at the school and Petrified, Potter (a reported _Parselmouth)_ was able to find and enter **Salazar Slytherin's** lost and legendary Chamber of Secrets and single-handedly slay the _Basilisk _therein, making him the youngest Wizard ever to do so, and also the fist Wizard to do so without aid.

In the margins of the book there was scratchy handwriting:

"**Bit of a shock to get to History of Magic in fourth year and find my own bloody name. What an outdated piece of crap! Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper, not Sirius, and Pettigrew betrayed them. ... Piece of crap. Can't believe they're making us use the same textbook from third year..."**

Under that in a precise feminine hand it read, _"But look, at least they got who killed the Basilisk right - some books still say Lockheart did it!"_

Harry's hand came back to say, **"Write in your own book, Hermione."**

Slowly Petunia Dursley shut the book, then set it aside to lay on Harry's pathetically thin and worn-out bedspread. She buried her face in her hands and began to weep.

She didn't stop until Vernon came home from work and bawled her out for not having supper prepared.

* * *

For once it was not raining outside of the Black household. Of course, Lucius Malfoy had no idea where the household _was_, but Dorin had let him know what neighbourhood they had walked through to get to it.

At least, what he remembered of it before the concealment charms and the Secret-Keeper spell had made it impossible for him to remember.

The elder Malfoy believed that if a Vampire were in the area, the sky would at least be clouded over. He squinted up at the towering blue sky above him, one hand on his cane, the other shading his eyes.

"Lovely day, in'tit?" an elderly voice said to his left and Malfoy turned to glare at the old Muggle man leaning up against his garden fence, smiling away; completely unaware of just how close he was standing to potential death. "Just in time for Hallowe'en no less."

Malfoy sneered, and turned on his heel, ignoring the old man, eyes scanning the block. All these houses looked so depressingly Muggle. Would he have to search each and every one?

And even if he did, with a Secret-Keeping charm, he could be nose to nose with Black and not know it!

Malfoy stifled a growl - his Lord should have sent someone else to get their hands dirty, someone more expendable. Lucius had important things to do! More important than sniffing out Dumbledore's hiding place.

Pettigrew, perhaps.

"Youa friend of that feller with the dog?" the old Muggle pressed on and Lucious Malfoy squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. He hadn't been told by the Dark Lord to kill any Muggles today, but he just might anyway. "And the pretty young lady with the dark hair? I seen 'em gettin' up and walkin' that big mutt past my front yard at all hours - nice couple, they are. Fans of the butcher shop. Always seen them bags in their hands."

"And why on Earth would you believe that I am an associate of this... couple?" Malfoy hissed, turning to face the old man, the hand on his cane-topper flexing slightly.

"Well, youra wearin' them clothes like they do - long cloaks insteada coats. Them and all their visitors always wear them long cloaks. Course, I never see where their house is - they go down that way and turn a corner and I don't seen 'em again until they leave, but I said to my wife, I says, those are some spiffy cloaks they have. Must be back in fashion, I says."

A smile tugged on the side of Lucious Malfoy's thin-lipped, cruel mouth.

"You've seen my comrades, then?" he asked silkily and the old Muggle nodded. "And which house did you say they were in?"

"Oh, I never seen 'em go into a house," the Muggle shrugged. "Just down that ways. They always seemed to vanish when they go around by the house with the green porch over there. Figured they went round a corner I couldn't see."

Malfoy's fist flexed on his cane. "I'm sure I'll find it. Thank you, sir, you've been immensely helpful."

"Not a trouble, sir, wot with you being an aristocrat and all that. 'Ave a good day. Got to go drain the water from me cucumber patch - been raining something awful this last month. Most unnatural weather..." the old man continued to mutter to himself as he strolled away, hands in his pockets, and eyes on his vegetables.

Luscious Malfoy was proud of himself when he managed to quash the urge to shoot the man in the in the back. Besides, it was broad daylight in a Muggle neighbourhood, and the old geezer _had_ been helpful, after all.

* * *

Sirius Black was getting cabin fever.

Was it possible to get cabin fever after just one day?

If it was possible, he was.

And the damned Muggle television, as amusing as it was, wasn't amusing _enough. _He'd spent the last two hours resisting the urge to use the felytone to call a strange man and order an apple-slicer that he'd never even need.

Before that it had been a passionate story that cut back and forth between countless couples, who all seemed to be on the verge of some monumental revelation. It frustrated him to no end that he never found out what the revelation _was._

Before that had been some demented moving pictures, like a Maurader's Map gone wild - these drawn characters chasing strange little monster things that he didn't recognize from DADA class, and trapping them in small red and white balls. There had been a whole 'marathon' of these strange shows, followed by two two-hour features.

He had no idea what was happening, but found the theme song catchy.

No wonder the Muggles never found out about magic. They were too damned enamored of this thing...

* * *

Harry Potter reached out as far as he could, stretching his arm, the tip of his tongue poking out the side of his mouth, his sparkling green eyes narrowed.

"Almost there, Harry!" he heard Ginny cry out from below him and Harry threw down the extra required burst of speed. The small golden ball came into his hand and he grabbed it hard.

"Good one, mate!" Ron called, and Harry pointed his broom downwards, descending and coming to a soft landing on the rich turf for the Quidditch pitch.

The Gryffindor team joined him, all sweating and panting, smiling and wind-ruffled from their own practice.

"Good catch, Harry," Ginny said and Harry turned to her. She managed to hide her blush in her scarf.

"If only I can do it that well during the Ravenclaw game," Harry beamed, "We'll have the Cup for sure, this year!"

Hermione Granger looked up from her book, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She enjoyed watching the Quidditch team practice. It meant that she got to see that Smile on Harry. That special Harry Smile.

She hadn't seen that Smile nearly enough in the past year and a half.

Marking her place in the text, she folded up the book and stood, making her way down from the bleachers to the pitch.

"I thought you all looked splendid!" she cried, waving to the team.

"I bet there's Hot Cocoa in the Gryf lounge, 'Mione!" Ron called, grinning at her.

"Let's go in!"

Oh, and there was that Special Ron Grin, too. That was worth the chilly wind of late October, definitely.

* * *

Petunia Dursley paused in her rummaging through her back closet when she came upon an old blue and grey sock. It was stretched out of shape, strangely rectangular, and she put her hand inside it. She pulled out an old Wizard photograph - on it, her sister and brother-in-law proudly displayed their three-month-old son, kissing discreetly and making his hand wave.

If she looked hard enough in the background, she could see three small figures wresting on the paving stones in the streets of the town Lily and James had lived in - Godfrey's Hollow or something like that, hadn't it been?

When she squinted, the three figures wrestling in the back noticed her looking and the one with the long dark hair ran up to the frame and elbowed James aside.

The figure waved, smiling, winking. Looking charming.

It was the man who was currently occupying Anathema Oldwyn's house.

The other two, a man with tawney hair and long sideburns and a shortish, rounder one with a pointed nose, hauled him back into the background.

James laughed and Lily looked up at Petunia with an apologetic look and a shrug.

Petunia slipped the photo back into the sock and slipped it under the mattress of her and Vernon's bed. She bit her lip and went to go find the bottle of wine she had been saving for a special occasion.

She needed a drink.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew sat in his chair at the end of the table, on the opposite side of his Dark Lord, trying to look interested. Snape was giving his report…again. Peter hated having to sit though these.

All Severus Snape said was the same stuff he'd always said.

"Dumbledore tells me nothing. Harry is well. What is your advice, my Lord?"

Peter tried really really hard to look interested. He still hated Severus Snape.

He let his mind wander to what was locked up in Dorin's room in the outer wing of the Riddle House. It's a pity the Dark Lord didn't make Dorin _Share_. Peter would like to be able to go stand in the sitting room where Remus' cage was, smelling like that woman Remus seemed to care about and sex.

See what his Werewolf nose told him then.

* * *

Remus Lupin curled into a ball and shivered once. God, he was hungry.

He wished they'd given him a blanket. Or at least a wet hanky that he could wipe the blood off his face with.

* * *

Anathema Oldwyn banged on the door.

"_Let me out right now!"_

No answer came from the other side.

She retreated to the bed, panting, eyes tearing up, and knuckles scraped and bloody from her repeated abuse of the door.

"No," she reminded herself. "You won't give in."

She sank into the blankets and buried her face in the fabric and willed herself not to think about it. She hadn't left this room in ... how long? She didn't know. She had no watch, he'd taken it away. There were no clocks. And the window was boarded up. Only a few cracks of dull dusty light shone through, but it could have been a lamp as easily as it was sunlight. It may have been two hours. It may have been a week already. She slept once but she wasn't sure for how long. Maybe it had been twice. She didn't know.

What she did know was that she had to get out.

Had to find Remus.

Had to find Sirius.

Had to warn Dumbledore.

Had to protect Harry.

... had a whole gaggle of mask-wearing sonofabitches to kill.

It had been a long time since she had willingly killed a human. Almost fifty years. She didn't like it. Mostly.

... this time...

This time she thought she wouldn't mind making a few exceptions.

Just as many exceptions as there were Death Eaters.

Barring that, at least enough for Voldemort, Pettigrew, Lestrange, and of course, Dorin.

... she wished she had her wand with her.

Or at least a decent shotgun.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore turned over in his sleep and clutched the covers.

"Tom," he muttered, but no one was around to hear it, "...failed you... preoccupied... didn't see it... should have seen it... Tom…"

* * *

And somewhere far away, in a dark room, laying on a rumpled bed, a beloved serpent coiled around the legs of the one known as Lord Voldemort, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, You-Know-Who, Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"_It's a mediated Immortality,_" the serpent hissed. It spoke in Parsletongue.

"I am aware," the man -if he could still be called a man- hissed back. "For the moment, it is better than anything else. Unicorns are hard to capture and the Philosopher's Stone was destroyed. I must be immortal if I am to be victorious. I must not fail! I will not die again."

The serpent slithered up the man's torso to flick its tongue affectionately against his bottom lip. _"Do you think you'll loose your good looks?"_

The man chuckled under his breath, an expression of happiness which normally precluded a death. Instead he reached up and caressed the top of the snake's head with affection. "I think the serpentine qualities that you have lent me will persevere, my beloved."

The snake nodded and closed her eyes, coiling up on his chest, enjoying the rumble of his voice in his chest.

"Dorin assured me that his progeny would be a willing convert to my cause, and I find myself angered that she is not. However, we have the Dog to hold over her head, as well as the head of that fool Dumbledore and his pathetic army. She will do as I command." He scratched the side of his neck lazily. "I certainly hope it does not scar. That would be a shame, eh?" he touched a finger to his forehead briefly, drawing out a lightning bolt shape. "To live through eternity with an ugly scar."

He laughed at his own cruel joke.


	14. Building Momentum

Part Fourteen: "Building Momentum"

* * *

Ana was sleeping.

Or, at least, she thought she was sleeping. She could have been staring at the ceiling. It was too dark to tell. She may have well had her eyelids closed.

She tossed and turned on the bed, scrubbing her face into the single limp pillow, stir-crazy and annoyed.

This was on purpose, she knew.

They were trying to wear her down.

They were trying to frustrate her and scare her.

The blonde, arrogant one had been here earlier. He had whispered horrible, dirty things in the dark. Things that made her flesh crawl. Things that had made her want to tear out his eyes. But he had stayed safely on the other side of the door.

Then the crazy woman had been there. Lestrange. She said horrid things about Sirius. Nasty, false things that Ana didn't want to remember. She told lies, told Ana that Sirius had done things to people that Sirius would never do. Lestrange was trying to make Ana doubt Sirius. Ana knew Sirius better than his demented cousin ever could.

Or did she?

She had harboured him for months, taken care of him, thought fondly of him but could she ever be sure, really?

No.

Don't listen.

The one named Pettigrew, the betrayer rat, he had come, too. He had said things so disgustingly graphic about what he'd do to Harry Potter when he'd caught him that Ana had to scream to drown out his words. Scream, or retch.

They had all whispered horrible things through the door. All manner of oily, dirty, greasy voices that made Ana feel sick and dirty and used and hurt.

And Ana could hear Remus. Somewhere in the building, Remus was shrieking, wailing, howling, growling. Sometimes she thought she heard him yelling her name. Ana would pound on the door and scream back, but she was sick, and tired. She hadn't fed.

Dorin had come, twice, and opened a vein for her. The first time Ana had refused to drink – he was poisoned, disgusting, sour. She didn't want to drink in his depravity.

The second time she was too hungry to be picky.

He had slit the inside of his own thigh with a sharp fingernail. Ana had turned away, and he had forced her head to the wound. The smell of the blood so close to her lips took away all inhibitions, stamped down the gag reflex that came from feeling _that_ brush against her cheek as she drank.

When he had left the room she had vomited.

Several hours later, when her head was spinning from the lack of nourishment and exhaustion, she had wished she hadn't.

Now, she could barely sit up.

She heard the lock on the door click, felt the faint fuzzy buzzing of the shielding charm let a body through its field. She cracked an eyelid and saw a silhouette standing against the soft light of the ill-lit hallway. It kicked the door closed behind it and the lock engaged.

"Go away," she whispered. She kenw who he was. She would never forget that scent, the sound of his voice, the feel of him in her head.

Her Master smiled. "No." He came up to the side of the bed and looked down at her. "Rumour has it that you babysat the Boy-Who-Lived all summer. Is that true?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"A little ratty told me."

Ana sneered. "And if I did?"

"Did you taste him?" Dorin's eyes sparkled in the half-light.

"No, you sick fuck."

Dorin made a disapproving sound. Ana felt the bed sink and sway and felt him kneel beside her. He bent low, swinging one knee up over hers. He straddled her pelvis and brought his face close enough to hers to bump noses. "Such a prude, my childe is. Who taught you that? I certainly didn't. You haven't even fucked the werewolf, have you?"

Ana said nothing, turning her head away. Dorin took advantage of her exposed neck and began to suckle.

"The greatest pleasure is in the blood, Anathema. The blood is the life."

"You're not Christ. Where do you get off saying that?"

"I'm Dracula. I might as well be Christ."

"Fey-born jackass."

He laughed. "Prudish slut. Oooooohhh," he groaned against her flesh, as if she had touched him. Which she had not. "What a lovely contradiction you are, my Anathema."

"I'm not 'yours'."

"Then whose are you?"

"Not _yours_."

"Oh, yes you are. Oh, you make me ache. You make my heart ache to have you, my skin ache to touch you. And your illogical whinging makes my head ache."

"Then leave me alone."

"No. I posses you."

"No."

She felt the wet slide of his tongue against her jaw and she clenched her teeth. "Did you at least fuck the convict?"

She said nothing.

"Oh, you are a disappointment. Hardly my daughter. We are the Fey-born Dark Childer – our line descends directly from that of Tam Lin himself."

"So you've told me a thousand times. It doesn't make me care any more."

"Don't you feel at least some obligation to your blood? To the legend of the Fey who could have any woman he wanted?"

"Ha. What, to fuck everything that stays still long enough?"

"That's a crude way of putting it. But yessssssss…" he hissed into her ear, deliberately blowing hot air at her. "Didn't I teach you better?"

"You actually think I enjoyed all that, didn't you? The poor kids in the taverns?"

"They were begging for it."

"What about the soldiers in the fields?"

"They would have raped you, given half a chance."

"You are a sick fuck."

He laughed and bit the tip of her nose, rather harder than what constituted a playful nibble. "And you love me for it."

"I do _not_ love you."

"Right, I forgot. You love the old man. Oh, Anathema, how tragic. To be in love with a pile of withered skin and bones. Why not come back to me? Hm? Love me instead. I won't die on you."

"You'll die the second I get my hands on a knife."

The stinging slap across the face caught her off guard, but Ana did not cry out. It was followed by gentle butterfly kisses along that same abused cheek that made her want to scream and thrash. Ana had been under Dorin enough times to know that if she fought back now, he would mistake it for foreplay.

"I am… going to kill you…." She whispered, her voice harsh and ragged.

"Oooh," he groaned and ground his pelvis against her thigh again. "Do you promise?"

Ana lost her composure and screamed in his ear. Dorin did not jerk back. Instead he clamped a hand down over her mouth. He lifted his head from her throat, where he had begun to suck, and glared down at her. "That was unpleasant."

Ana's eyes grew wild and large, more white than blue.

"For that, I think I am going to … you never liked 'missionary' did you? Never liked having to look at my face. That's what I'm going to do."

Ana's desperate protest was muffled by his large palm.

"But I can't have you screaming. Your voice riles up the doggie – he paces and snarls and foams at the mouth when he hears you screaming. It's fun, but he takes so long to shut up." Dorin's hand slipped down her chin to wrap around her throat.

"Please, don't…" Ana whispered, and there were tears in her voice. She could be strong no longer. Her tone was low and ragged, pleading. All she could do was cry.

"Begging already?" Dorin chuckled. "Do as I say and I'll do it another way – so you won't have to see my face."

"…no."

"Obey the Dark Lord and you won't have to see me."

"No."

Dorin shrugged and applied pressure with his fingers and his knee at the same time. He forced one leg between hers, even as he wrapped a second hand around her neck.

Ana was a vampire. She didn't need to breathe.

But a crushed windpipe kept a vampire from screaming just as easily as a human.

* * *

Sometime around dawn - Remus could see the lightening of the windows of the barren sitting room - the door to the room creaked open and Remus looked up wearily to see who was coming to torment him or gloat over him next.

Peter had left the night before without a word, and good riddance to the rat. Lucius Malfoy had been by, poked at him with his cane like a beast in a zoo. Remus, of course, was no beast, and he had seized the end of the walking stick in his hand instantly. Malfoy's face went white, which was gratifying to see, before he yanked the came out of Remus' grasp and kicked him hard in the ribs through the bars.

"Rot there, you filthy mutt," he'd snarled through his teeth and had stalked out of the room.

Next had come Crabbe and Goyle - they had been hooligans when Remus had been at Hogwarts with them and they were hooligans still. They rattled the cage and sneered and taunted, but didn't have the guts to get within grabbing range. After one good snarl they retreated. Remus managed to catch the tail end of Goyle's flicking cloak hem and tugged hard. The clasp at the other man's throat snapped, and Remus finally had something to cover up with.

Goyle didn't dare try to reach into the cage to take his cloak back from Remus.

Once that snake of Voldemort's slithered in, eyed him as if it knew exactly what was going on, hissed to itself, and left. Remus thought it probably it had probably been sent by the Dark Lord to make sure Remus was still where he was supposed to be.

Pulling the cloak firmly around his body to make sure that no one would be able to take it from him without a fight, Remus looked up to see who was coming into the room now.

In the doorway, Severus Snape stared, face pale, eyes wide, and lips a thin line. He was wearing black robes and in his hand was a white, expressionless mask. Remus closed his eyes and forced his head back down. He knew Severus was an Order member, knew he was on the side of the light, knew he was a spy ... but he had never seen him in his Death Eater attire before. It made him want to vomit.

If he'd had anything in his stomach, he probably would have.

There was a 'snick' sound as the door was shut and Remus could hear the footsteps of his former school mate approaching the cage. Snape knelt and whispered, "I don't have much time. Are you alright?"

Remus nodded once but didn't look up.

There was the sound of rustling fabric and a small package was slipped into Remus' hands.

"Wha?"

"Molly Weasley sends her 'love'," Snape's lip curled up and his nose wrinkled to suggested that the very thought of Molly loving anything was repulsive. "It's all I could do, so you better be grateful."

Remus looked up to meet Snape's eyes. He could smell the roastbeef, bread, butter, mustard, and lettuce under the cellophane. A sandwich. "... thank you," he managed to croak out of his dry throat. Snape pressed a small water bottle into his hands too.

"Eat fast, I have to take the packaging back with me so no one sees it."

Remus did just that as Severus continued to talk.

"I don't know where Ms. Oldwyn is. I've only been here a few hours today and once yesterday after the attack. Everyone has moved, and they're all fine," he added before Remus could draw the breath to ask about the Order. The relief was evident in him as he slumped back against the bars. "Your girlfriend--"

"–she's not my girlfriend," Remus protested around a full mouth.

"Fine, the Git's Girlfriend--"

"–she's not Sirius' girlfriend either."

Snape glared at Remus with ice-chip eyes. The Werewolf swallowed self-consciously. "Sorry."

Snape sighed, frustrated, "Well, the little bitch, whichever one of you she's fucking, is part of some big plans for the Dark Lord. He keeps talking about 1945. Don't know what yet – but I am under the impression that it has to do with her Master. He's promised to 'give her' to Voldemort, whatever that means. I suspect I'll find out tonight."

Remus snarled, the water bottle in his hand crinkling has his fist clenched. It was thankfully empty as he had drank all the water before eating the roastbeef sandwich.

"But for where she is, I don't know," Snape plowed on, taking the empty bottle and cellophane back from Sirius and slipping them into his cloak.

Remus sighed. "I hope she's okay."

"Worry more about yourself."

"... how do you mean?"

Snape's eyes darted around the room and he leaned closer to whisper. "The Dark Lord has devised a spell to create a false full moon." Remus' face drained of all colour but Snape went on: "Hallowe'en is next week. It's going to be then."

The door creaked, the handle squeaking as it turned and Snape shot to his feet. "Disgusting freak!" Snape shrieked and booted Remus right in the shoulder. The Werewolf, caught off guard, slammed hard against the bars opposite and banged his head. Blackness exploded behind his eyes.

"Now, now, Potions Master," Remus could vaguely hear Lucius Malfoy's voice purr from the doorway. "Don't go and break the Lord's new toy."

Snape snarled, spat on the floor next to the cage, and stomped out. When the door shut behind the two of them, Remus sat up and rubbed the back of his head, and had to suppress a hysterical bout of laughter.

"Bet Snivellus enjoyed every second of that..." he muttered to himself and lay down, pulling the stolen cloak closely around him. The edge taken off his hunger, he suddenly felt sleepy.

* * *

Many hours later, Ana sat on the bed, eyes closed and legs crossed, the top sheet still wrapped around her as her clothes were still no where to be found, and tried to concentrate on _not _thinking about her mounting claustrophobia.

When she heard the lock on the door clicking open, she tensed. When the door opened, she sprang at the crack and tried to force her way through. Strong, cold hands shoved her back.

"Tut, tut," Dorin grinned. He was wearing dark robes and tossed his white mask down onto the floor carelessly. "Meeting's all over and I wanted to come a play for a bit before I have to go out to work. I knew you'd be happy to see me, but to throw yourself on me is a little... unladylike, don't you think?"

"Fucking bastard!" Ana shrieked from the floor by the bed, where his shove had sent her sprawling.

"Such names." Dorin's grin grew and he shut the door behind him with a wave of his hand. The lock engaged and the charm shielding set up magically. He lifted his hands to the clasp at his throat and undid the buckle, letting the black cape billow to the floor, pooling around his ankles. Underneath he wore dark trousers and a grey button up shirt. He started to undo the buttons.

"No!" Ana said and pulled herself to her feet, gripping the side of the bed for balance.

Dorin chuckled. "Of course you'd say no. Aren't you ever tired of saying no?"

"No!"

He lunged at her, grabbed her shoulders and knocked her onto her back on the mattress. He pressed his knee hard between her thighs, bruising, and ran his tongue over her cheek. "I want to hear you say 'yes'," he breathed into her ear, pausing to draw blood from her earlobe with a nip from his fangs. "I want to hear you say that you'll do everything you're told."

"No! Never! Get off me!" She beat her fists against his chest, but he didn't budge. Ana, who was strong enough to toss a full grown human man like Sirius Black across the room, couldn't move her Sire an inch.

Dorin growled. "Wrong answer." He wrapped a hand in her hair and yanked hard. She screamed and he pressed the other hand over her mouth and nose, immobilizing her, forcing her to meet his eyes. She squeezed hers shut but he yanked again and her lids flew open in hurt, her shocked scream muffled by his hand. He pulled her eyelids wider with his thumb and forefinger.

Their gazes met. He pressed against her consciousness, breaking apart her barriers of willpower. "_You will do as I tell you._" She tried to shake her head but his hands kept her head still. "I am going to run an errand for Our Master, and he is going to summon you to him. You will do everything he tells you to, do you understand?"

He lifted his hand slowly from her face. "Yes," she whispered, her gaze glazed from the pressure he was applying on her mind, even as her eyes teared up.

"Good." Dorin leaned down and kissed her thoroughly. Ana didn't have the strength or will power to shove him off when he slipped his hands into the folds of her make-shift toga and pulled it apart.

Inside her mind she was screaming.

A single bloody tear, the only form of resistance she could muster, slipped down her cheek.

* * *

Harry Potter looked up from his History of Magic homework and at Dobby the House Elf. As ever, Dobby was clad in the most bizarre array of knitted wool caps and mittens, a Hogwarts Tea Towel, and Harry's old black sock (which had to be falling to bits by now).

"Yes, Dobby?" Harry asked of the wide-eyed Elf. Around him, in the Gryffindor common lounge, other students were watching with rapt interest. In the corner, Hermione watched with big puppy eyes, probably thinking (if Harry knew her well enough, and he liked to think that he did) about how horrible poor Dobby's life as a slave must be. Harry hated being watched and patted down his fringe over his scar self-consciously.

"Headmaster Dumbledore would like to see Harry Potter in his office, sir," the elf said softly and Harry sighed, shut his book, and set it aside as he stood.

Seamus said "ooo - in trouble, Potter?" but shut his mouth when Ron sent him a death-glare.

Harry followed the house elf out of the common room, ignoring the whispers that followed him, and through the nighttime halls to the Phoenix statue that marked the secret passageway to the headmaster's private study.

"Blood Lolly," the elf croaked, and then made himself vanish. Literally.

Harry jumped under the statue's wing to stand on the top step and rode it like an escalator as the stairs wound themselves up to the door of the office. He knocked once and heard Dumbledore's voice from within call out, "Come in, Harry!"

Harry smirked to himself - Albus Dumbledore always knew who was visiting him.

Harry pushed back the door and poked his head around the threshold. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Come in, come in, my boy."

Harry went in, shutting the door behind him, and walked across the room to where Dumbledore was seated with Kinglsey Shaklebolt and Tonks by the fire. Harry shook the hands of both in greeting and then took the offered spare chair.

"Harry," Tonks began, "how'd you like to skiv off school tomorrow?"

"Tonks!" Dumbledore admonished, but his eyes were laughing.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, chuckling.

Shaklebolt sighed a great rumbling sigh, rubbed the top of his bald pate, and said, "Professor Snape just got back from a meeting. We don't like the sound of what the Dark Lord is planning... Harry, we want you to come with us."

Harry frowned. "What, you mean... run away? Hide or something?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No Harry. We would not ask you to hide, because there is no where you _could_ hide." Harry felt a shiver go through him but pushed it down. Dumbledore continued. "No, Harry, Voldemort has sent one of his best men after you - we expect him to try to kidnap you tonight."

"So!" Harry shouted, pushing back the fear, "Let whoever it is come. I've been practicing all summer. I'm the one whose supposed to beat Voldemort, aren't I? Isn't that right? Either me or him is supposed to die by the other's hand, right?" Harry felt the careful dyke he'd built against the sea of fear and panic that had been threatening to drown him all summer break. "Right! I don't care! I'll kill him now, if I have to! I can!"

"Harry, please, calm down," Tonks began.

"I won't! I'm not calming down and I'm not running away!"

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly.

Harry immediately felt guilty for his outburst and quieted. The Order was just trying to protect him, after all - but he hated the idea of tucking his tail between his legs and hiding. It wasn't _fair_. His parents dead, his Godfather on the lamb, and his own friends in jeopardy just for being his friends... because of stupid Trelwany and her stupid prophecy!

"What about everyone else?" Harry said quietly after a long moment. "If the Death Eater comes here, will he hurt anyone else?"

Tonks spoke up: "He's not coming to Hogwarts, Harry. He's going where-ever it is that you are. Snape said that the Death Eaters are performing a spell to send this guy to where-ever you are. It's long and involved and we don't have much time left for hysterics. We have to go now if we're going to trap this bastard."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "Right, I'll go."

Shaklebolt stood and nodded to Dumbledore, "Well, headmaster, I think it's time we left."

The good-byes were brief and hurried and Shaklebolt, who was easily twice the size of Harry, (even though he'd been through two growth spurts since August), jammed them all into the Headmaster's fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder and said, "The Department of Mysteries!"

* * *

Harry shivered once and rubbed his arms. It was cold in the Department of Mysteries, but that wasn't why he shivered.

He was standing right beside the Veil, close enough to reach out and brush his fingers against the thick, ragged, black fabric that covered it - that's what was making him shiver. He was nervous, being this close to it. Of course, he knew how to escape now, after having spoken to Sirius. Someone just had to go up to a mirror and call his name - from that he should be able to burst through the worlds and come back to the real one.

That knowledge, or the fact that he had reminded Tonks and Shaklebolt of this immediately upon their entrance to the Veil Room, still did noting to get rid of his nervousness.

Harry didn't _want_ to be standing here.

Of course, Harry had immediately told Dumbledore all about how Sirius had come back to them when he had gotten to school that term. Hermione had pestered him all the way to Hogwarts when he had told her, Ron, Ginny, and Neville about it in their private car on the Hogwarts Express. So now everyone in the Order of the Phoenix knew what was on the far side of the Veil and how to rescue someone from it, just in case Voldemort tried to use it as a weapon against them.

That didn't mean, though, the Veil lost its potency - the realm beyond it was still the place of Dead Fears, a nightmare world where you became the thing that terrified you the most. No one would want to experience that.

Harry had no wish to know what it felt like to be Voldemort's lieutenant, or his own parent's murderer.

He turned his mind to other things, other happier things, or at least tried to. All that came to him was the conversation he and Tonks'd had on a few minutes earlier – Grimmauld place in shambles, Sirius holed up, Remus and Ana missing, taken by a Death Eater to... to Voldemort.

_Are they alright?_ He wondered. Snape had reported that Remus was being kept alive to use as a weapon against the Light, and that Ana had been reclaimed by her Sire, but Harry wasn't sure what either of these meant.

Remus Lupin may have been alive, but was he still okay? And what about Ana? Harry really liked her, and he knew his Godfather was wild for her - would being 'reclaimed' change her?

And what about Sirius? _Sirius must be miserable_, Harry realized. Now that Harry thought about it, Sirius was supposed to have sent him a letter yesterday, and it hadn't arrived - now Harry knew why.

Tonks said that he'd gone back into hiding, but where? And why hadn't he told Harry? Sirius always told Harry where he was...

Harry let his eyes wander to the stone arch that supported the Veil above his head. He wondered if the fabric itself was the doorway, or if the fabric merely covered a sort of localized portal. He shivered again.

"Not cold, are you?" Tonks asked, breaking Harry's musing, and he turned his head to her and smiled thinly.

"A little," he answered, "but I'll live."

Shaklebolt, on the opposite side of Tonks from Harry, his large arms crossed over his chest, nodded once. His gold earring bobbed and glinted in the light of the only lit torch in the room. It was at the bottom of the stone staircase, directly between the three of them and the door into the room. Harry was standing right beside the opening of the Veil and Tonks and Shaklebolt were on either side of him.

The cold was making Harry's nose run and he sniffled once, wiping the tip of his nose on the sleeve of his sweater. He hadn't been in his Hogwarts robes when Dobby had come to fetch him, only a pair of Muggle jeans and one of the many crimson sweaters that Mrs. Weasely had knit for him with a giant yellow "H" on the front.

Ron teased him mercilessly for wearing the sweater, but Ron didn't understand. Ron thought the sweaters were just ugly. Harry saw the sweaters (okay, they _were_ ugly) as proof of a mother's love for her children, and was honoured beyond words that he was considered an important enough member of the Weasely Clan to get sweaters for Christmas every year.

Harry, who'd never had a mother, who'd never received a Christmas present before his first year at Hogwarts, treasured each and every one of the Weasely sweaters.

He was glad of it now, as it gave him a momentary warm fuzzy feeling to recall Mrs. Weasely's jolly face. It was almost enough to dispel the horrid bone-deep chill that came from standing beside the thing that had killed his Godfather. Almost.

"How much longer d'you think it'll be?" Harry asked in a low voice.

"Dunno," Tonks shrugged. She was wearing a heavy-weight winter cloak (it was almost Hallowe'en and the weather had begun to get rather chilly), so the cool air pouring out of the Veil didn't seem to affect her. "Another hour? Fifteen minutes? Right this second? I don't know the spell."

Harry rubbed his arms again.

"You _are_ cold," Shaklebolt rumbled behind him, and Harry could hear the smile in his voice. "There's no use you freezing to death. You're no good to us that way, Potter."

Harry felt Shaklebolt's arms come around him, swigging the larger man's cloak around his shoulders and looked down to see slender white hands fastening up the ties at his throat.

Waitaminute - _white_ hands!

The hands tightened the stays and Harry gurgled in surprise as the cloak was pulled tightly around his neck - _he was going to be strangled!_

"Tonks!" he tried to scream but it came out in a wheezy bubbly cough. Tonks had already launched herself at Harry, her face contorted with fury and her wand at the ready.

"Stupefy!" she cried but Harry was yanked aside as his assaulter jumped out of the way.

_Towards the Veil!_ Harry thought to himself, _Gotta get him towards the Veil!_

The man pulled Harry close to his chest and wrapped one arm around his torso, trapping Harry's arms underneath the cloak, immobile, and wound the other hand into Harry's thick dark hair.

Harry gasped in pain as his head was wrenched to one side. "Don't move!" the voice hissed in his ear and Tonks stopped where she stood. Harry could see her standing directly in front of the Veil, and to the side, Shaklebolt lay on the ground, limp, the back of his head bleeding.

The Death Eater must have appeared behind Kingsley and knocked him out, then, in one swift motion, grabbed Shaklebolt's cloak out of the air and proceeded to continue wrapping it around Harry to trap him.

"Now, be a good little girl and put down your wand," the man said, and Tonks hesitated. "_Now_! Or I bite the boy!"

Harry jumped slightly as he heard Tonks' wand clatter against the stone – _bite_ him? Yes, he could feel the cold breath against his ear, the graze of fangs against his skin. ... A Vampire.

Voldemort had sent a Vampire to kidnap him.

_That's_ why they had decided to try to confront him in the Veil Room - because it would have been to easy for a Vampire to be able to take Harry from Hogwarts. The woods surrounding it, all the students, the fact that the Vampire would be hard to kill... the Dark Lord had planned it well. If this Death Eater had appeared in the Great Hall, no one would have been able to lift a finger against him for fear of harming the students, and Harry would have given himself up to keep anyone else from getting hurt - and Voldemort knew it.

If Professor Snape hadn't warned them in time...

Harry began to wriggle madly, using all his strength to try to break free, bruising himself against the immovable limbs of the Vampire, and the Vampire tightened its grip. The air was crushed from Harry's lungs and he cried out, arching in pain.

"Stop it!" the Vampire hissed at him, and Harry stopped, bent over and panting. The only thing holding him up was the arm around his waist. The Vampire let go of his hair and Harry's head flopped forward. He closed his eyes, willing the sudden nausea of momentary asphyxiation to vanish.

Harry didn't know what to do.

Then, suddenly, a thought came to him. The Vampire Death Eater _must_ be Ana's Sire! Was there anyway to use that to his advantage? To startle the Vampire into letting down his guard?

He sucked in a breath and coughed out, "A-ana..."

The Vampire hauled him back upright, putting a hand underneath Harry's chin and forcing Harry's head to lay back against his own shoulder. "What did you say?"

"I want to see Ana!" Harry stuttered. He looked out of the corner of his eye and caught a vague impression of a pointed face, smooth white skin and dark lips, razor-like white fangs, glowing red eyes, and a tumble of dark hair in loose curls.

The Vampire laughed. "My wayward progeny did not tell me that she had taken the Boy-Who-Lived as a lover..."

Harry pressed the balls of his feet against the floor, propelling himself forward a half a step. The Vampire, caught off guard, stumbled and for a brief second fought to gain equilibrium and maintain his grip on Harry. Harry pushed again and again they stumbled forward. _Yes, that's it, closer to the Veil..._

The Vampire planted his feet and gripped Harry hard.

"I want to see Ana!" Harry screamed again and writhed - and the Vampire, amused, let him wriggle. Harry pushed against the floor, and the Vampire loosened his grip a bit.

"Stop fidgeting, boy, and I will bring you to your precious Ana."

"I'm going to kill you!" Harry snarled, "I know what you did to her! I'm going to kill you for hurting her like that!"

This time the Vampire full-out guffawed. "What does she claim I've done to her! Come, let me look at your face when you tell me, boy!" Strong hands clamped down on his shoulders, keeping Harry from breaking free. But it allowed him to raise his arms again. Harry was spun around in the Vampire's grip, and immediately raised his wand under the heavy folds of Kinglsey's cloak. The tip just poked out of the front, too small for the Vampire to see.

For a moment, Harry was too stunned to do anything. The Vampire's face was pale and looked too much like the mask of a Death Eater to possibly be real and mobile, yet it was moving. Behind him, Harry heard Tonks crouch and pick up her wand.

"I can see you, stupid girl," the Vampire said and Tonks froze. His face turned back to Harry, although the boy couldn't tell where his eyes were looking - they were entirely red. "As for you - you're a handsome boy, Harry Potter, although not as old as my childe often likes to take them. Tell me, do you find her a good lover? I taught her everything she knows..."

Harry grimaced at his grin.

"No?" the Vampire pulled Harry closer. "Do you suppose I'll be able to taste her on you, hm?" Harry's eyes widened as he realized what was about to happen and he tried to pull back. "You'll certainly be able to taste her on me..."

One hand came off Harry's shoulder to grab a handful of hair at the back of his head and force him to tilt his face upwards to meet the Vampire's kiss. His cold lips had barley grazed Harry's when Harry let all his weight drop.

The Vampire, who had been arched over him, was yanked downwards by his own grip on Harry and Harry heard Tonks lunge for her wand and scream, "_STUPEFY_!"

Above him, the Vampire shuddered once and began to fall - Harry swung a foot up and kicked him in the gut, doubling the Vampire over and falling onto his own back. He aimed his wand at the Vampire's knees and screamed out "_MOBILUS CORPUS_!".

Harry jerked his wand in a wide arc back over his own head, and the Vampire was propelled over Harry and directly at the Veil. Harry's stumbling earlier had gotten him close enough to execute the move.

As the Death Eater slipped behind the curtain, a strong gust of freezing breeze puffed the fabric outwards and blasted Harry in the face.

He thought he heard the man scream.

For a moment the world was still and silent.

"Kinglsey!" Tonks shouted, dashing past Harry to kneel at the fallen man's side.

"Is he...?" Harry asked, pulling the cloak off and moving to Kinglsey's other side to drape it over him.

"Fine," Tonks said, smiling, her hand coming away from his neck where she had been feeling for a pulse. "He's okay." She reached across his body and laid a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "You were very brave, Harry."

Harry ducked his head and shrugged. "Thanks."

Together they pulled Kinglsey to his feet and he groaned, his head lolling and his eyes fluttering open.

"What'd I miss?" Shaklebolt moaned as the three of them moved precariously up the stone stairs to the doorway.

Tonks laughed and Harry shot her a look.

"Only Harry's first time getting kissed by a guy," Tonks snickered. She yelped as Harry reached behind Kingsley and pinched her arm hard.


	15. Celtic Prayer

Part Fifteen: "Celtic Prayer"

* * *

Ana knelt before Lord Voldemort, clad in what she was sure was one of Bellatrix Lestrange's black robes, tied off with a bright blue sash that had once held the curtains in her room open. When the robes had been flung at her by a Death Eater at the door, and she had been told to dress, Ana had begun to worry, but did as she was told. She wasn't about to wander through enemy headquarters naked - the robes were too big, however, and didn't close tightly enough, so she took the blue tie from the curtains and used that to gather the material more tightly against her body.

Then the Death Eater pulled her out of the room and they walked down the hall, down some stairs, down another hall, and into this room. For a moment she had considered making a break for it. She was a Vampire, after all - fast, strong... then she had seen how many of them there were. Dozens.

All with wands. All master Wizards. She'd never be able to fight them off - and she didn't dare try to escape without Remus. What if they hurt him?

The room they were in now was dark, the fire in the hearth at the far side of the room naught but glowing embers, and it's warmth and light blocked off by many bodies. It was a dining hall of some sort, she thought, or had been at one time.

Now it looked like a war-room, the long table strewn with papers and quills, potions bottles and daggers, masks and mean-looking owls. Black-robed figures hemmed them in, standing along the walls, their eyes sparking behind expressionless white masks. Voldemort sat at the head, lounging back in his chair, his pet snake twisting around his torso like a lover, resting its head on his shoulder.

Ana was on her hands and knees on the worn carpet before him, two Death Eaters on either side of her in case she decided to do something... unproductive.

She hated the knowledge that she had absolutely nothing on underneath her robes, hated that she had to borrow the clothing of the woman who had done her own childe so much harm, hated that she was kneeling at the feet of the man who had caused so much misery in her new friend's lives, and hating herself for doing it.

But what choice did she have? Disobey him, and Remus would die. If he was still alive.

"Your Sire has not yet returned from his...errand..." Voldemort hissed and Ana flinched at the sound, but resolved to keep her eyes on the floor. His highn hissing voice hurt her hypersensitive ears. She wanted to block out the sound of his voice, but she had been ordered by her Sire to obey Voldemort, and although her will was strong, his Suggestion still lingered and she could not override it. "And I begin to grow ... concerned. It is yet nine days until Hallowe'en, and I have no other Death Eaters to spare to fetch me Harry Potter. So my plans have changed."

Ana clenched her eyes tightly shut, fearing what his new plan must be and how it would involve her. She thought she had been brought to this place, this stronghold that resembled a house, to keep her Master amused and content - now she wasn't so sure.

"I have need of a Vampire. You will fill in for Dorin," the Dark Lord reached out from his chair and placed one knuckle under her chin, tipping her face upwards. He forced her to meet his eyes. "Tonight, you will turn me."

Her will screamed 'never!', but the lingering control Dorin had over her said "Yes, Master."

* * *

In the corner of the darkened dining hall, Severus Snape milled in a group of masked Death Eaters, eyes trained on the Vampire.

He may hate Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, but to allow them to die or be punished by allowing Ana to be killed would be counter-productive to the Cause of the Light.

He listened carefully to everything Lord Voldemort said, committing it to memory to repeat to Dumbledore. If Voldemort was really to be turned tonight, then Snape would have to forcefully involve himself in the Death Eater's Hallowe'en plans.

He had to know everything, because Voldemort had just gotten a lot harder to kill.

* * *

On the far side of the country, sometime near dawn, Sirius Black stood by the open window in Ana's bedroom, trying not to smell her lingering scent in the house. He had the sash throw open so he would breathe in the clean air from outside – when he chose to breathe – and to keep an eye out for any message owls that may be heading his way.

Eventually his waiting was rewarded - a large white owl flew into the room and landed gracefully on the foot of the bed.

"Hallo, Hedwig," he crooned to the bird, rubbing her head affectionately, and Hedwig trilled back, happily accepting the Owl Treat he dug out of his trousers pockets and offered her. Sirius untied the letter on her leg and she flapped over to the nightstand to perch on the lamp as he read.

_Padfoot:_

_We have just received word that there will be an attack on Hallowe'en night. Plans have changed so we don't know the details yet - we will be informed closer to the night. Stay where you are, we will fetch you when the time is right. Our Missing Friends are still alive and mostly well - keep up hope. The Boy is fine, too - S and T and he averted a kidnapping attempt last night. Avoid all thought of your grand-Sire near mirrors. All the best,_

_D_

Sirius crumpled the letter in his first and swore loudly, "Fuck!" and kicked the footboard of the bed violently. It cracked and fell to the ground in several pieces, and with a loud 'BANG'. In his anger he had forgotten his new strength.

"FUCK!" he screamed again, "FUCK FUCK _FUCK_! Stay where I am? Stay where I _bleeding am_! We got Death Eaters crawling all over the place and Ana and Remus are still hostages and Harry's getting kidnapped! And I'm sitting here on my fucking arse like _an idiot_! _I'm sick of fucking lying low!"_

Beside the bed, Hedwig hooted once, a low reproachful sound.

Sirius sighed, a long frustrated sound, and ran a hand through his hair. Then he went to Ana's bedside table, retrieved a sheet of looseleaf paper and a ballpoint pen (damned weird Muggle contraption) and wrote his reply:

_D:_

_Am staying put. Have The Boy owl me, please? Don't you dare kick some DE ass without me._

–_Padfoot._

Hedwig allowed him to tie the letter onto her leg and set off. Sirius stood at the window and watched her go until she was just a spot against greying light of the coming sunrise.

Damn, but he_ hated_ lying low. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to go nuts. With another frustrated sigh, he headed downstairs - the blood packets that Ana had left in the fridge were miraculously still fresh enough to consume, but his supply was beginning to get low. If he wasn't summoned to Hogwarts or to a new Hideout for the Order soon, he would have to go hunting.

He had never really gone alone, before.

The cabin fever got a little worse.

* * *

That morning, at around ten o'clock, it began to rain. Petunia Dursley thought this odd, as the forecast had quite clearly called for a sunny day. Yet when she looked outside, the sky was nearly black, on the verge of a thunderstorm. The knock on her door at 10:15 startled her - she hadn't been expecting visitors. Dudley was still at school and Vernon was away at work for the day, and was going out without her to an important business dinner later.

Who on earth would be visiting _her?_

She had thought she was going to be alone for the whole day and hadn't really relished the thought. The knock on the door was a bit of a relief, and she secretly hoped it was Mrs. Jones from next door - she still hadn't managed to weasel the secret of her fantastic Yorkshire Pudding out of the woman.

Without a thought, she unlocked the door and opened it, only to find herself standing face to face with a dripping wet Sirius Black. Yes, she was certain this man was Sirius Black, the fellow in Lily's photo, the man who had been on the wanted posters three years ago... the man who was supposed to be Harry's Godfather.

"I was wondering... if I might come in..." he said slowly, eyes on his feet, as if expecting to have the door slammed in his face.

Two days ago, Petunia would have slammed it in his face.

Now, she took a step back and opened the door wider, allowing him to enter. He did and she took his coat as he slipped off his shoes. Silently, she steered him towards the sitting room, then retreated to the kitchen to put on a pot of tea. As the water boiled she fetched him a towel to sop up the puddle in his hair, and set some biscuits on a platter.

When the kettle began to whistle, she poured the hot water into the teapot, letting the leaves steep, and placed two saucers, two cups, two spoons, the platter of biscuits, some milk and some sugar onto a tea service and carried them out into the living room. The man watched her with silent eyes as she set the service down on the coffee table and then took a seat on the ottoman opposite him.

"Tea or sugar Mr...?" she said, lifting the pot. Her hands trembled and her voice wavered and she prayed that he didn't notice. This man was an escaped mass murderer ... or, at least, people thought he was a mass murderer. The notes in Harry's books and the pictures on his wall clearly said that Harry didn't believe it and neither did his friends. But Mr. Black was still a Wizard... a freak.

"Black," he said softly, so softly that she almost didn't hear him. He set the damp towel down in his lap. "And I don't take tea, thank you."

"Oh." Petunia set the pot down, suddenly not in the mood for a cup of tea herself. In her hands, she twisted her fingers around the hem of her skirt. She took a deep breath, summoning up her courage, looked up, and said:

"Tell me about Harry," at the exact same time Mr. Black did.

* * *

"This is Harry's room," Petunia told him as she pushed back the door. "He stays here during the summer holidays."

As they entered the room, Petunia felt suddenly ashamed that all the furnishings in the room were so shabby, that there was no evidence of anything in the room besides what Harry had put there himself - no TV, no computer, no stereo, nothing at all that could be considered a gift from his Aunt and Uncle. She realized belatedly that every photo in the house was a normal one, and held only images of herself, Vernon, and Dudley.

Outside of this room, there was no evidence that Harry existed at all.

Come to think of it, she didn't think she _had_ any pictures of Harry.

Mr. Black didn't seem to notice or care as he walked into the room and turned in a slow circle, taking everything in. His eyes stopped on a moving picture of Harry's parents waltzing together in a swirling torrent of autumn foliage that sat on the bedside table, and he went over and picked it up. Petunia watched as James twirled Lily around, laughing, then paused only long enough to stick his tongue out at Sirius.

"What was he like?" Petunia asked, stepping into the room. She let the bedroom door swing shut behind her and moved over to stand beside Sirius so she could peer at the photo, too.

"James?"

She nodded.

"James was the most clever sonofagun I ever met." Mr. Black smiled at her, and she was struck by how very silver Mr. Black's eyes were - in the photo Lily had sent her, his eyes were a blue-grey. The photo obviously didn't do him justice. The charm was there, she could tell, but this older Mr. Black, his dark beard lightly peppered with grey, two dignified streaks of silver at his temples, was more subdued. Calmer. Quieter. And there was a sense of melancholy that hung about him, which was absent in the picture.

Harry had said that Mr. Black had been in Azkaban prison for almost thirteen years – by Petunia's estimation, Wizarding or not, any sort of jail term that long would be enough to turn even the wildest of young fellows into a sober, mature man.

"Best Chaser Gryffindor ever had," Mr. Black continued and Petunia sat on Harry's bed and watched as he perused the photos on the wall. "Harry takes after him. Plays Seeker, though. Great player - could play for England if he wanted to, I bet."

Petunia blinked - Harry was good enough at this Wizards' sport that he could play for the national team if he chose to?

That was certainly news to her!

Her wiry, scrawny nephew... but, ah, he'd been filling out recently, hadn't he? She had noticed, of course, under the loose hand-me-downs of Dudley's - his chest had become thicker, his arms more finely muscled, his posture straighter and his awareness of his environment was spectacular. He never tripped or ran into anything anymore, even when Dudley stole his glasses.

She had supposed it was just because of all the gardening he did during the summer months, and that he was growing. But now she realized that it was because he was an athlete - he was training rigorously while he was away at school, and was so good that he may be invited to play for England.

... and to think, they'd had no idea.

"James was foolishly brave, too, just like Harry. And when he loved..." Mr. Black flashed a pearly white smile at her over his shoulder, and she only vaguely noticed how unnaturally sharp his eyeteeth seemed. "... I never saw a boy fall so hard for a girl. He did damned near everything he could think of to get your sister to notice him."

Petunia swallowed the burning lump in her throat. "Wha... what made her notice?"

Mr. Black's grin grew wider. "He sent her a dozen roses, every hour, on the hour, on Valentine's day in our sixth year. He hired real cherubs to sing to her between classes and bought the finest Honeydukes Lover's Chocolates."

"And that worked?"

"Not at all." Mr. Black laughed. "That night he got an owl from her, telling him to just back off and give up already. He refused. He grabbed his broom and flew straight out the dorm window and straight to hers, reached in and grabbed her by the shirt collar and dragged her onto his broom, kicking and screaming, and flew them both up to the Astronomy Tower. There he got down on one knee and told her how he'd been in love with her since he first saw her on the first train to Hogwarts that first year, and how he loved her sparkling green eyes and her long hair and how he was willing to do anything and everything for her and that if she didn't agree to at least go out on a date with him right there and then, he'd throw himself off the tower."

"And what happened?"

Mr. Black sat down beside Petunia on the bed, still holding the photo frame. "Well, Lily said, 'I don't see why I shouldn't let you.' "

"No!"

"Yes. And I think James was ready to do just that. And then she held out her hand and he took and she said, 'Tell me something that will make me want to kiss you, then we'll see.' "

"...and?"

Sirius sighed and leaned across the bed to place the photo back in its place on Harry's bedside table. He straightened slowly, obviously cherishing the memory, and turned to smile gently at Petunia. "And James said, 'I want our children to have your eyes.' "

* * *

The room was dark, and Ana preferred it that way. The curtains were closed as she wore the tie that was suppose to hold them back around her waist. The window was still boarded up, and she hadn't bothered to turn on a light. She had been sitting on the bed, waiting here for at least two hours, as far as she could figure. She had been dragged in here as soon as Voldemort had elicited her oath from her to turn him. He had then redirected his focus to the matter of planning his assault on the forces of the Light.

Ana had been relegated to the background of his mind.

Ana wished she had been present to hear that planning - one, so she knew what was going to happen, and two, so she wouldn't be stuck in this same damned room again. She had been staring at the walls in here for days, and she thought she was going to go crazy soon if she didn't get out of here.

Every time she let her eyes wander to the door, all she could think of was an old Celtic prayer that an elderly woman she had once stayed with about two hundred years ago had taught her. She couldn't remember it in Gaelic, but muttered the words every so often in English:

"May you find your way safe Home,

Child who is lost in the Dark,

And may all the Good Creatures of Nature,

Be your Welcome and willing guides."

God, she hoped Remus was alright.

* * *

Remus Lupin kept his eyes shut. He could hear the voices on the other side of the door, but he wasn't in the mood to stare at the door itself anymore. It wasn't going to change. It wasn't going to vanish. All that was going to happen was that these people would come inside and maybe feed him, and laugh over him, kick him, and then go away.

He was starting to really feel like an animal - he was dirty, tired, sore from having to remain crouched in the low-ceilinged cage. He wanted a hot bath he could stretch out in, a big hunk of rare steak and a baked potato smothered in sour cream, a mug of butterbeer, and Ana beside him.

He didn't want to think about what her master may be doing to her right now.

He didn't even like to think about her at all, because every time he did, he'd get this painful pang in his chest. He liked Ana, there were no two ways around it. She was smart, funny, bad-ass and sarcastic. She was strong and beautiful and she didn't give a good goddamn if he was a Werewolf or not.

But Sirius was in love with her.

And she ... she was probably in love with him.

Which left Remus in a bit of a lurch.

Three was definitely one too many in these sorts of things, and Remus found himself with a big old number 3 on his forehead.

The door creaked open and Remus turned his thoughts away from Ana and to Wormtail. Planning what horrible things he could do to his betrayer friend when he got out of here always made Remus feel better.

A single Death Eater came into the room and stood by the side of his cage, not removing its mask.

"Well, go on then," Remus huffed, pulling the stolen cloak tightly around his body. "Laugh. Or hey, why not be original, and don't. I don't much care about your oaths that the Dark Lord will flay the flesh from my miserable bones, or whatever."

The Death Eater chuckled. "Always the optimist, Lupin."

Remus sat up - the voice behind the mask was Snape's.

"Any news?"

"Nothing from anyone else, but your Vampire girl..."

Remus' heart leapt with both fear and anticipation. "Yes?"

"She's being forced to turn Voldemort tonight."

With that, Snape turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Remus sank in on himself, resting his forehead on his knees. For the first time since he'd arrived here, he let himself cry, keeping the sobs soft and muffled, just in case.

* * *

Harry Potter pulled Hermione and Ron aside before they could enter the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Where were you last night?" Ron asked before Harry had a chance to say anything to them. "You didn't go to bed until, like, practically dawn."

"I went to the Department of Mysteries," Harry hissed back and Hermione nearly cried out in horror, but managed to stifle the sound by jamming her fist into her mouth. There were dark circles under Harry's eyes and indeed he did look like he'd had a rough night with little sleep.

She paused, thinking for a moment, then asked, "Why?"

"Voldemort sent a Death Eater after me last night."

Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand. "Oh, Harry!"

"I'm fine - we found out about it and so we went to the Department, and when he showed up, we chucked him into the Veil."

"Brilliant! Serves him right!" Ron said, his voice a straining whisper as he pumped the air with his fist.

Hermione, on the other hand, frowned. "But if Sirius was able to escape the Veil, isn't it possible that this Death Eater could, too?"

Harry shook his head, "Not unless someone calls his name at a mirror. That's the doorway between worlds, the mirrors. Like Alice Through the Looking Glass. As long as no one says his name by a mirror, we're fine."

"How can we do that?" Ron grinned, "We don't know who he was!"

Harry shrugged and frowned a little. "I do – he was Ana's Sire."

Hermione and Ron favoured him with identical dead-fish stares.

"Are you okay!" Ron asked at the same time Hermione hissed, "Were you bitten?"

Harry laughed and pulled down the collar of his dress shirt. "Fine - see, no black dots."

Hermione reached out and gently touched the skin of his neck. True, there were no bite marks, but there w as a line of livid purple bruising just under his collar. "Harry, what happened?"

Harry laughed again, trying to fob off her concern. "Almost choked me to death. Heh heh - I'm okay, really, I am."

Hermione's reply was cut off by the annoyed sound of a throat clearing behind them. "If it's not too much trouble," they heard Professor MacGonegal say behind them, and the three of them straightened and turned to her, each looking suitable guilty. "Finish your conversation inside, at the breakfast table. I'll not have one of you passing out in class because you were too foolish to eat."

"Yes, Professor," the said in unison, and turned and ran into the Great Hall.

Minerva MacGonegal watched them go with a fond smile on her face. "Good job last night, Potter," she whispered to herself, and went to have her own breakfast.

And behind a suit of armour, Draco Malfoy allowed himself a small chuckle. He had seen Potter pull his goody goody friends aside and had hidden himself nearby so as to eavesdrop. He expected to hear plans about how they were going to sneak out to Hagrid's or something tonight - he hadn't bet on getting information that could make his father the most favoured Death Eater in Lord Voldemort's Army.

When he entered the dining hall he flashed a triumphant smile at Potter and chuckled again when he saw the look of confusion and discomfort on the Boy-Who-Lived's face. _Well, The-Boy-Who-Lived-Until-This-Hallowe'en_, he thought to himself smugly.

* * *

Ana heard the door opening and tensed.

No point in rushing the opening, she would never get out. But the opening door either meant that Dorin was back or Voldemort was here. A dark shadow slipped into the room and the door snicked shut behind it. Slitted red eyes regarded her from under a deep hood, the face stretched and green, noseless and lipless.

Voldemort.

Ana closed her eyes slowly and squeezed her fingers together in her lap, but did not move otherwise. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to do this. But she had little choice. Not only was Dorin's Suggestion compelling her to obey Voldemort's edict to turn him, but the thought of what may happen to Remus if she didn't was also a factor.

She felt the side of the mattress sink and forced herself to look up. Voldemort was sitting on the side of the bed, leaning towards her, his eyes on his face and his knife-slice mouth turned up in a mocking imitation of a smile.

"You needn't look so disgusted," he hissed and Ana's flesh began to crawl. "I promise you that I will be an enjoyable lover." He reached up and ran his fingertips along her cheek. "I'll admit that it's been a while since I've taken a woman of your beauty, but I assure you that you will be satisfied. Besides," his grin grew, "Can you imagine how many women will be jealous of you? Mother of the Dark Lord, and Mistress, too. Such high honours, Anathema Oldwyn, and I have chosen to bestow them upon you. You, the former lover of Albus Dumbledore. You, the Master of Sirius Black. You, the one who has held the life of Harry Potter in her hands. You who, in 1945--"

"–shut up!"

Voldemort paused and leaned in closer. Ana forced herself to remain still as she felt his hot breath brush her lips. "Tender subject, I see. Come, let me take your mind off it."

He lowered his head and pressed a cold kiss to her mouth. Ana did not respond. Voldemort pulled back and grinned again. "Stubborn bitch," he chuckled. "Dorin warned me you were willful." He pulled a dagger from inside his robe and held it up - for a second Ana feared that he would stab her and simply take the blood. Then he turned it and raised the point to his own throat.

_No!_ Dammit, that would... that would do exactly what it was that Voldemort wanted. Ana had not fed in the whole time she had been here. Dorin had taken blood from her and given it back during his sex play, but that was not the same thing as _feeding_. She needed to replenish the supply of blood in her body at least once a day if she was to remain healthy - at had been at least three since she had last fed and she would lose to her instincts if she were to smell fresh blood now, no matter where it came from.

She would pounce.

Voldemort was betting on it.

Moving to fast for the Dark Lord to see, Ana reached up and plucked the dagger from his grasp. He frowned and glowered.

"No... not... not that way," Ana said softly, her throat dry and her voice cracking. What could she do? She was between a rock and a hard place, here. If she refused to turn Voldemort, she and Remus would die. She knew from experience that to refuse one of Dorin's Suggestions would leave her in excruciating pain and vulnerable to a killing curse from the Dark Lord's wand.

Or at least a stunning spell strong enough to keep her immobile while he… he…

Her gorge rose and she forced her thoughts away from that dark place.

She didn't want to give Voldemort this advantage. Somehow he already knew that Sirius Black was a Vampire now - she couldn't give him anything else. But to refuse him just meant that he would kill her and find a different Vampire and her refusal and death would be for nothing.

She parted her lips and leaned towards Voldemort. He jerked backwards, startled by her sudden change of mind. Then he smiled, pulling her into a tight embrace and running one hand down her back. The feel of his skin next to hers made her shudder, but she stomped down the revulsion. He was cold, just as cold as her, but where Ana's flesh felt like Dead Skin after so many days without sustenance, he felt like a slightly damp reptile.

There was no help for it. She had to touch him to do this.

She tilted her head and placed her lips against the Dark Lord's neck, low enough to almost be on his shoulder. She exhaled once and felt his skin goosebump under her tongue as she pressed against his flesh in search of a pulse.

There - this was where she would bite.

She couldn't bring herself to do it, though. He fangs were not extended; she was neither hungry (well, she was, but not for _him) _nor aroused enough to bring them forth. She closed her eyes and deliberately recalled Sirius - the kiss they'd shared in the Forbidden Forest, the feel of his hard body pressed against hers during his own turning, the many lazy embraces they'd shared since.

She thought of Remus, of the passionate intense kisses on the sofa, the smoldering look she caught in his eyes when he thought she wasn't looking, the feral qualities of his movements as he stalked through the house.

She felt her face flushing as she replayed the feelings and fantasies in her head, allowing herself to imagine what she had been repressing for so long - what it would be like to take either or both of them as a lover. A warm tingling feeling spread in her stomach. Her head grew light. She felt soft, warm, clean smelling skin, gentle hands, teasing, scratchy beards.

She set her fangs against the skin below her lips, pretending it was one of her phantom lovers, and bit down.

The first surge of blood killed the fantasies instantly. It was thin and cold, bitter and tasted of serpent. She choked it down, ignoring the gag reflex that threatened and took another long pull.

Voldemort moaned and pressed himself against her, pushing her down onto her back on the bed. Ana ignored his roaming hands and concentrated on her task. The faster she drained him, the faster she could turn him, and the faster he would go away.

He pulled away the sash that held her robes closed, his hands fumbling. His skin grew colder with each mouthful she took, her own stomach roiling and threatening to make her vomit. But nourishment was nourishment and she refused to allow him to make her sick. If she didn't retain his blood, if it wasn't pulled out of her stomach and into her veins and tainted with the Vampire's curse, then he would have nothing to take back from her and then he would...

Ana's eyes widened.

For half a moment, she paused and let his blood dribble past her slack lips.

If she stopped right now, Voldemort would... he would _what_? He would end up like Sirius! Her saliva would infect his system and he would get the black spots and he would _die_!

The problem was that he expected to be turned. She couldn't stop now because he would know. Above her, the Dark Lord let out a long sigh and slumped against her body. Ana pulled away from the wound, a thread of blood connecting her lips and his shoulder. More of the noxious red fluid seeped out of the twin punctures and down his shoulder.

She stared at his prone form.

Voldemort had passed out!

Ana had taken so much blood from him that he had passed out!

Perfect.

_Perfect_.

Someone was definitely on her side tonight.

She rolled him over and off of her, sitting up and wiping her mouth clean on the back of her hand. She then used her finger to clean all the blood away from the wounds on his neck and smeared it around his lips and chin. She doubted he would know the difference between the taste of his own blood and hers. She collected some of the dripping blood and let it fall from her fingers into his mouth so his tongue would be coated.

She used the dagger, which she was still clutching in one hand, to stab to shallow punctures in her own neck, carefully measuring the width of his eyeteeth and matching them on her own skin.

Carefully, she dabbed her fingers in the blood that dripped from her own wounds and used the healing properties of the blood to coax the wounds on his neck closed - she nearly crowed with delight as she saw them shrivel into the familiar and deadly black dots.

She slid the dagger under the mattress, hiding it, hoping he wouldn't remember about it. Then she slapped his cheek once.

"Wake up, my son," she whispered softly in his ear and his eyelids fluttered open. "Wake up."

Voldemort pulled himself upright, slowly, painfully. She knew that he would be dehydrated and dizzy.

"It is done?"

"Yes - do you not taste the blood on your lips?"

The Dark Lord licked his lips and grinned.

"You drank from me, and I am your Master now, and--" Ana was cut off by a sharp slap across the face.

"I am Lord Voldemort. No one is my Master."

Ana lowered her eyes and head humbly in a short bow, "Of course, my Lord. Forgive me. I only meant that I am your Sire. You are now as I am."

Voldemort pulled himself to his feet.

"A caution, my Lord," she said softly, without looking up. "You will be tired and thirsty for the next few days. The turning is not an immediate thing. Water will quench your thirst as well as blood for the next three days at least. But eat nothing and shun the sunlight. Should you notice black lines on your skin, fear not - it is merely the power of the Vampire infiltrating your system. When your entire body is covered, you will die, and awaken as one of the Immortal Undead."

Voldemort nodded and turned on his heel.

"My Lord?" Ana added, and he stopped to listen. She felt dirty for what she was about to say, but felt that stroking his ego would help maintain the lie. "May I ... say... My Lord is indeed an ... excellent lover. Your memories of it may have vanished in the blood haze, but I assure you it was... satisfying."

She shivered at his laugh and did not move as he swept towards the door, trying to remain upright despite his obvious weakness and stumbling. When the door shut behind him, she could hear him slump against the wall and the Death Eaters outside helping him to his feet.

She had done it.

She had convinced Lord Voldemort that he was now Immortal – and in doing so, she had killed him.

She just hoped that Dorin didn't return before the bloodmaddness had taken over and destroyed Voldemort from the inside out.


	16. Tam Lin

Part Sixteen: "Tam Lin"

* * *

In Scotland there is tell of a valiant youth whose dark beauty and honour captured the heart of the Faerie Queen. She stole him away to the Realm of the Faerie and took his soul and name. She called him Tam Lin and she favoured him among all her court.

But Faerie hearts are fickle things, and every seven years upon the even of Samhain, the Fey were required to pay a tithing to Hell. The tithing was one fey life – a sacrifice of a noble and fair warrior or maid. If they did not, the Gates of Hell would open and daemons would pour forth onto the earth and cover the bright lands of Faerie and Human alike in Eternal Darkness.

When it came time for the tithing to be paid, the Fey Queen decided that it would be better to sacrifice her human toy than loose one of her Immortal Children. Tam Lin was set upon a milk-white horse and dressed in Elvish Grey. For reasons unknown to her, he refused to wear a glove on his left hand, but gladly took one for the right.

The Fey Court travelled at the Witching Hour, the most Noble on steeds of black, the lesser on brown as per custom, and the sacrifice on white. Tam Lin knew well his fate and did not fight.

This was good, as the guards would have dragged him to Hell kicking and screaming if they had been forced to.

At the crossroads of Miles Cross, beside an ancient and freshet well they came upon a young woman. Her belly was full with child and she was scandalously clad in Green, the colour only the Fey may wear. She burst out of the woods and grabbed hold of Tam Lin and pulled him from his horse.

In her rage the Queen transfigured Tam Lin into a newt, and the woman did not scream and drop him. "Give me Tam Lin!" she cried, and the Queen transfigured him into an adder. Again she cried, "Give me Tam Lin!" The Queen transfigured him into a bear, and into a lion, and the wretched woman only held him fast and cried, "Give me Tam Lin!"

Finally, the Queen transfigured Tam Lin into a rod of red-hot iron, determined to burn the woman. She spun on her heel and tossed the iron rod into the blessed well and Tam Lin emerged from the water whole, naked, and reborn. The woman threw her mantle of Green over his body, thus signalling her possession and protection of him. "I am Jennet of Carterhaugh, an' I claim Tam Lin as me lover, husband, and father of me bairn! Nae more will the fey claim 'im as I gi' 'im back 'is true ain proper naeme! Dorin, he is, ain Dorin remain!"

"I curse you!" the Queen screamed. "Had I but known you were false to me, I would have taken your heart and replaced it with stone! I would have taken your eyes and replaced them with wood - then never would your love have strayed from me!"

Dorin, formerly Tam Lin, huddled in the green mantle and glared defiantly at the Fey Queen with glittering black eyes. "This mortal woman came to the grove where I used to sleep, _my_ grove, an' plucked a rose - she offered me the flower, _her_ flower. I took her as me lover and she ha' delivered my soul from Hell. Be off, fickle Queen. Ye have nae more power here."

The Fey Queen pointed a slender finger at the human man. "I curse you, Tam Lin of the Green Hill. I curse you to know the agony of having love ripped from your breast. I curse you to wander the world as I do, Immortal, alone, and bitter. No woman will love you, no man will trust you, and you shall forever kill your own children. I curse you to become a tithing-eating monster, drinking the blood of your babes, as you have forced me to sacrifice one of my babes to Hell this night. I curse you!"

With this pronouncement, The Queen reached out and scratched Dorin's neck with a long, pointed nail. Dorin doubled up, falling to his knees upon the dusty road, retching. Blood oozed from the wound on his throat and immediately black began to thread its way from the tear in his skin to every corner of his body.

Jennet screamed and fell to his side. "I beg you!" she cried, but the Fey had vanished. Not even the hoofprints of their horses remained behind as proof of their existence.

Dorin let forth a low howl of agony and keeled to the side. From deep in the woods, a resounding howl answered him. Dorin shuddered once and then lay still. Jennet was left alone, her belly heavy with child, with the corpse of her lover. The howl from the woods came again and she shivered, unsheathing the dagger in her belt and brandishing it before her.

A wolf, solitary and lithe, emerged from the brush directly opposite and stared at her with amber eyes.

"Away, creature!" she spat and the wolf merely cocked his head. He hunched low and began to stalk towards Jennet and in her despair, she was forced to abandon the body of her lover to put the low walls of the well between the wolf and herself.

The wolf lowered its nose to the corpse's face and nudged once. To Jennet's horror, Dorin sat up! He wrapped his arms around the wolf and whispered, "Obey me, fellow creature. Obey me and protect my kin." The wolf nodded and together they turned their gazes to the aghast Jennet. The eyes that regarded her were amber and crimson in colour.

* * *

The wedding was hasty and the honeymoon long. Dorin took the Wolf and his Wife out of Scotland and never brought them back. The babe was born in a distant country under the shadow of a great range of mountains. Dorin hoped that by putting distance between the Fey and himself the curse would not come to pass, but his own physical condition persisted. No longer could he walk in the sunlight, nor consume the food of the living. He was bound to survive upon blood alone and was given the deamon power to shift his form into that of the most hated creature in the Fey Realm, the inky bat.

Jennet and Dorin settled in a small village and for a time managed to convince their neighbours and themselves that they were normal humans. The Wolf resided in the woods and continued to be loyal to Dorin.

The ways of Wizards and Witches Dorin knew from Scotland, as he had learned the secrets of Wand and Potion when he resided with the Fey on the Green Hill - he thus became a healer of great renown and eventually was able to give his wolf friend a human form for all nights but that of the full moon.

The wolf forever resented Dorin, for what wolf could possibly wish to be something so base and vile as a Man? He went man and fled - thus were Werewolves born.

Jennet and Dorin named their son Merlyn, which in their tongue meant "from the hill over the sea", and took the family name Old-One. Merlyn became a Wizard of great power and returned to his parent's home to guide a great king to his destiny, taking the name Lailoken of the Raven's Loft to hide himself from the rage of the Fey Queen.

Merlyn had a son, unbeknownst to his father or to the Fey. He was forced to leave the boy behind in Scotland as he fled back to his parent's village, for the Fey Queen's half-mortal daughter Morgana exposed him for who he really was and became determined to overthrow his apprentice, King Arthur.

The boy eventually grew and married a Witch of good heart, and together they begot a charming girl named Rowena. Rowena married a valiant wizard named Godric and together they founded both a school and a legacy.

Merlyn's last gift to his RavenLoft great-grandchildren before his passing was one of his famous prophesies - _a child of his blood, with eyes the colour of the mantle which severed his own father from the Fey, would one day rise and be a warrior and wizard of such renown that even the darkest denizen of Hell would not be victorious against him. The warrior-boy would slay the son of the Deamon which implemented the seven-year tithing against the Faerie world, a Dark Wizard with the form of a Serpent._

Merlyn returned to his parent's village and found his mother had died and his father had taken to living in seclusion in the woods. Tainted with the Fey Magic that had been in his father's blood when he had been conceived, Merlyn realized that he was a long-lived and unnatural being. The Fey Queen's curse had rendered his father Immortal and eventually the populace of the village had noticed his lack of aging and run him out of town.

Merlyn named himself Dorrant Oldone (a name which meant "old stranger") and moved into the village. He married a magic-less yet lovely young woman and together they had many healthy children. Merlyn kept the secret of Magic and his own tainted Fearie past from his children and wife in the hopes that they would not be cursed by their linage. As for Dorin, he remained hidden in the woods, watching his growing family with both pride and bitterness. The children grew up, knowing nothing about him, and he came to resent himself and Jennet for freeing him from the Fey.

Without the knowledge of his son, who by now was ancient and near to mortal death, and who had at least three generations of children who called him "grandfather", Dorin returned to the land of his birth to beg the Fey Queen to take him back and lift his loneliness.

Dorin travelled to the forest of Carterhaugh, now known as the realm of Camelot, and there, clad in the forbidden green, sat down in the midst of the first Faerie Ring he could find and willed himself to sleep. When he awoke, the Fey Queen stood over him, an angry expression on her face.

"My Queen!" he said, arms open to her. "It is I, your Tam Lin, returned to you. Take me back and I swear I will be loyal to you once more. Let me lead a mortal-charmed life until the next tithing, and I swear I will happily go to Hell to redeem the Fey Realm. I weary of this dark and lonely existence."

The Queen sneered. "I have set a curse upon you, Tam Lin - thus far only half has come true, but I will not lift it from you ere you fulfil it. I was forced to give up my love the day the woman took you from me, and you have lost her and all your babes to time. But I was also forced to shed the blood of my beloved children, and you have not yet done so. Thus, I send you back to where your family lies, in the shadow of the mountains, and take from you any recognition of them. You will be the monster in the Castle which requires the blood of a young woman each eighteen years. You will cease to be Tam Lin of the Green Hill and be the Dragon Lord of the Mountain."

Dorin awoke underneath the pine trees in a drift of snow with no memory of his past, save for his name, that he was a Dark Creature who could control shape-shifting wolves, lusted after blood for nourishment, had the ability and memory to wield magics, and that, for reasons unknown to him, he greatly resented women.

He called himself Dracul, Dragon Lord, and seized control of the lands around him, naming them Wallachia and himself its King. The small village at the base of the mountain became his hunting ground and to keep himself amused he declared that the people would give him a young woman on her eighteenth birthday every eighteen years. At first the village resisted, an old man named Dorrant rising against Dracul, wielding magic, but Dracul easily drank his blood and drained him dry. The village settled on lots for the sacrifice - the first girl-child born after the death of the last sacrifice would be the next one.

For hundreds of years Dracul controlled the people of his kingdom in this way. He did not hunt inside the borders of the village (which eventually grew into a decent-sized town) and protected them from other Dark Creatures and Wizards, and invading armies. In return he was guaranteed at least one night of a full meal and 'amusement' every eighteen years.

For reasons unbeknownst to Dorin Dracul, he always found the blood of the ones with the family name 'Oldwyn' to have a strange and lingering quality to it. It was as if he was drinking the blood of a fey-born, which was impossible as they were all Muggles (as the Wizarding Vernacular had come to call the non-magic folk).

When presented with Anathema Oldwyn one clear and cool night, Dorin Dracul decided to take a risk and instead of outright killing her, took her for himself and turned her instead. She became an amusing companion and her utter fear of him entertained him for many nights.

Eventually the entertainment became stale. One night he left her in their sleeping place, a lair outside the walls of his castle, and did not return. He continued to remain in Wallachia and accept the tithing, but never went back to Anathema - eventually she fled, as he knew she would, and good riddance to her.

A century or so later, when presented with the opportunity to leave Wallachia (by then called Transylvania), he took it. He moved to the Island nation of England and found it quaint and home-like. Unfortunately, he was pursued by Muggles who became aware of his nature and hunted him, and chased all the way back to Transylvania to brood in his defeat for a few decades.

This time when he attempted to leave his dilapidated and forgotten kingdom, he slipped away to America instead, and by great chance, met Anathema on the boat. He played with her briefly as the boat ride was ever-so-boring, but did not bother with her once he'd reached the New World.

There he remained and amassed a great fortune, until the crash of the Stock Markets. Disenchanted, and broke, Dorin returned to the one country where he had truly felt at home in all the world : Scotland. The Wizarding Community in the British Isles was very advanced and Dorin integrated himself. Eventually he learned of a man named Marvolo, who claimed to be the Son of the the GateKeeper of Hell.

Dorin's interest was piqued by this creature. He watched the man live his ramshackle life, and carefully. But when the Second World War broke out, Dorin lost track of him.

It wasn't until Marvolo's own son, Tom Riddle, was attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that Dorin found Marvolo again. Or rather, found Marvolo's grave - the bombing of London had taken more than just Muggles as its casualties.

While the war ceased in the Muggle world, it raged on until the defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in the Wizarding world by a young red-headed wizard called Albus Dumbledore and - surprise, surprise - Dorin's wayward childe Ana.

Details on how the Dark Wizard was defeated were unclear and Dorin could not gain access to the truth. He let Ana slide back into the shadows but watched as she and the Wizard Albus grew close and preoccupied with one another - so preoccupied that Dorin was able to slip under the new Professor Dumbledore's nose to whisper Dark Things into the ear of Tom Riddle.

It amused him that Ana refused to enter the Wizarding world, and never once met with her lover inside of it - she never even knew the location of Hogwarts, as he always flooed to the Leaky Cauldron for their liaisons.

Dumbledore eventually noticed Tom sliding into Darkness and broke it off with Ana to focus the fullness of his attention on the boy, but it was too late. Tom Marvolo Riddle had refashioned himself to be Lord Voldemort, and the Wizarding world was plunged into another secret war.

Dorin was content to sit back and watch the mayhem until the green-eyed brat of the Potters managed to defeat Voldemort. For a while Dorin was disenchanted. He made other progeny to pass the time but ended up killing them, for none was as amusing as his Anathema.

Eventually, all of them broke as cheap porcelain dolls do.

Anathema was a work of art.

Then the Potter boy attended Hogwarts for the first time, and it was revealed that Lord Voldemort was indeed not _dead_, just... body-less. Dorin immediately joined the side of the Dark, calling himself a Death Eater and allowing Voldemort to claim dominion over him with full intention of seizing the Dark Lord's power from him once the mortal man had died.

He did his best to frustrate Voldemort's dreams of Immortality to keep his own plans on track. He killed Unicorns, clouded the location of the Philosopher's Stone, tore up valuable parchments that contained ancient potions and spells.

Eventually, he decided to seek out Ana again. She had always been the one who had understood him best. And, a vampire such as herself, who rumour stated had helped Dumbledore defeat Grindelwald, would be a useful ally against Voldemort when the time came.

Dorin used Voldemort's own troops to search for the woman who would eventually help to kill their master.

The other Death Eaters were made aware of his search, and eventually a tip came from the rat-creature that she was guiding the Potter boy's Godfather in the ways of vampirism.

Dorin snuck into their hideaway, kidnapped his childe and brought her pet wolf with them, and realized that the Black man was not only a vampire but his own grand-childe.

Not long after he agreed to take the mission to fetch the Potter boy from his school so the Dark Lord could kill the child, and instead found himself floundering and flailing in the land of Dead Nightmares, reliving his own sordid past and becoming the one thing that he feared most in the entire world:

Beyond the Veil, Dorin Dracul, scourge of the Wizarding world was once more the meek and powerless mortal captive of the Fey Queen, Tam Lin.

* * *

Ana was counting down the days. Two more nights until Hallowe'en Eve. Two more nights... she had no idea what to do. She didn't have a wand, and even if she did, she knew practically no magic. If she rose up with the Death Eaters, she'd be among the first to fall. If she hid behind the forces of Light, she would be targeted.

She'd seen Remus, once, a day or so earlier. Time had little meaning here. She _thought_ it was two days to Hallowe'en. The Dark went on for ever.

Lord Voldemort didn't like the light. She had seen the Potions Professor, Snivellus, a few hours ago - another meeting. Lord Voldemort liked parading about his captives. He kept his body entirely covered, only his chin visible – thank god. No one would see the black spreading until it was too late.

Snivellus stood sneering in the corner -she had snarled at him and called him traitor. The one with long blond hair had laughed. She hated him instantly.

She _had_ seen Remus... had it been yesterday? Maybe the day before.

It was so dark here, hard to tell. Her lips were cracked and dry, her throat parched. She'd attacked the first warm body that had come into the room three days earlier (or four, maybe? It was so dark in here), bled it dry. Didn't feel guilty - it'd had a mask on. She secretly hoped it had been Bellatrix Lestrange. Too bad it wasn't the blond one.

But she had seen Remus, in passing - she was being ushered down a hall by men with no faces, and the door had been open a crack. She _thought_ she had seen Remus.

No, she had.

A fire was dying in the hearth behind him. He had howled from under the low ceiling of a cage of bars and she had not looked in his direction. He had sobbed, starved sounding, wretched.

She was a Death Eater now. She was supposed to be.

She _couldn't_ bring herself to look at him.

At least he was alive.

That had been two days ago – or five, maybe? It was so dark in here.

No, Hallowe'en was only two days away.

The Master had always hated Hallowe'en - he had never said why. She had never asked.

She was glad he was still missing. Two more days, three maybe - Voldemort had begun to howl at night (or maybe it was Remus?) and when he came to her to demand she tell him why, she had told the blond one to fuck off - the matters of Sire and Progeny were none of his damn concern.

She knew he was lusting for the blood, that the bloodmaddness had carried him to her door more than once, where he snarled and threatened from the other side, but never unlocked for fear of her escaping. His will power must have been strong. Stronger than Sirius' had been.

Just two more days until Hallowe'en (or was it six?). Would they take her with them, with no Dorin around to control her for them? There was that spell, she knew about it - the one that made people do what you command. One of the three Unforgivables. She couldn't remember the damned name.

Perhaps she'd find out, in two day's time.

Maybe about that many days until Voldemort's seizures started. Hopefully no one would figure out what was happening until it was too late.

Dorin hated Hallowe'en - the Eve of Samhain. She hoped he'd stay away, wherever he was.

It was so damn dark in here.

The light blue curtains hurt her eyes.

_

* * *

Dear Harry:_

_I don't know how much you've been told, but I feel now is a good time for honesty. Especially now. I know that Dumbledore has either told you the plans or will, probably tonight. I was called to a meeting to discuss them and only now have gotten back. _

_Harry, something's gone dreadfully wrong - Remus and Ana have been taken by LV and we fought, we fought so hard, Harry, to get them back. We failed. We are informed that they are both still alive and healthy, so don't worry about that. But I wanted you to know they're missing - we expect to get them back soon, very soon Harry. _

_I promise you I won't let anything happen to them. _

_And I swear above all else that I won't let anything happen to you or your friends. _

_Do what Dumbledore tells you - don't fight, don't whinge, don't argue. Don't let Ron or Hermione make you tell what you're going to be told. If they don't know, they won't be hurt, do you understand?_

_Harry, I love you. I want you to know that. All those years I was away from you, I would dream about holding out in my arms and hugging you tight and baking your birthday cakes and telling you lies about Father Christmas and celebrating your Hogwarts Letter and dropping you off and picking you up from the Express and going out to play fetch in the park and teaching you how to ride a motorcycle and how to hold your beer and how to pick up a chick and all the things that a father should teach a son, even if you weren't really my son, you were still MINE._

_I won't let anyone take you from me, and I won't let anyone take me from you, not ever again. I've done something, and I don't know if you'll approve, and I'm sorry if you don't, but I needed to, to keep you safe and I don't regret it at all. I'll tell you later._

_For right now, forget about your school work, and do what Dumbledore tells you to. DON'T TELL RON AND HERMIONE. DON'T TELL ANYONE._

_Be a good boy. I'm so proud of you._

–_Padfoot._

Harry crumpled the letter in his hand, his fingers balling into a fist, and hissed between his teeth.

Hermione looked up from her breakfast, knife poised over the strawberry jam pot. "You alright, Harry?"

Harry nodded and stood up from the table and pushed his glasses up onto his head to keep them from getting blurry and spotted if he started to cry.

"Harry?" Ron asked, unconvinced. "Harry, do you not feel well? I know we play Ravenclaw today, but you haven't been sick before a match since first year..."

"I'm fine," Harry lied and smiled. He flicked his eyes up to the teacher's desk - the headmaster was looking directly back at him. Harry nodded, and left.

He walked straight to Dumbledore's office and was not at all surprised to be met at the Phoenix statue by the headmaster. "Sirius told you?" was the first thing Dumbledore said, gesturing to the letter.

"Yes," Harry said softly. "I'll do whatever you want."

"Good boy," Dumbledore said softly and patted his shoulder. "Come up into my office, Harry. There's a book of Merlin's Prophecies that I want you to read..."

* * *

Sirius Black sent the swooping Barn owl out of Ana's bedroom window, then let his eyes fall to the house across the street. It was just after dawn and Harry wouldn't get the letter until breakfast, at least. He wasn't expecting a reply, and felt all twisted up and wretched inside from having to sit through the meeting all night.

He hoped the letter didn't sound as possessive has he felt about his godson - he knew it was the vampire thing, the need to posses and own and control, but he was relishing the upsurge of paternal feeling it was giving him,

With Grimmauld Place no longer safe (but still standing and unfound, as far as Severus Snape had reported), they had met at Ana's house. It was Muggle, unknown, and relatively secure. Sirius had known Petunia and Vernon Dursley had seen all the cloaked people coming to the door around midnight, because the living room light had been on over at number four.

Alistair Moody had been tempted to just curse the bejesus out of them for prying, but Arabella Figg had beat him down with her umbrella.

The meeting had been long and painful to sit through, but at last it was done. Severus had told them Voldemort's plans for Hallowe'en Eve (_tomorrow night_, thought Sirius with a sinking stomach), and they had planned for counter measures. Sirius could definitely say he was _not happy_ about some of the choices that had been made, but there were really very few other things that could be done.

When Hallowe'en night came, if would be the Last Battle. They were planning for the Last Battle, at least, and they were all hoping for it. It remained to be seen whether or not Lord Voldemort could worm his way out of it or not.

Sirius ran a frustrated hand through his long, tangled hair.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a bath. It was at least four hours until it would be a respectable time to go knock on the Dursley's door, so he plucked a book off Ana's shelf and made his way into the bathroom.

As the tub slowly filled (and he indulged in the girly blue sea salts that Ana had liked so much - they just smelled so nice), he peeled off his clothing and tossed it into a heap by the toilet. He had been wearing a pair of dark trousers and a loose red tee-shirt with the phrase "Head Foundation, Give Generously" underneath his more sombre black robes at the meeting when Ana's Master had attacked, and hadn't brought much else with him when he left Grimmauld place.

He'd gone through all his clean underthings and clean shirts and had been wearing one of Molly Weasley's "H" sweaters Harry had left at Ana's at the meeting tonight. Severus had snipped a nasty comment about how short the sleeves were on him and Sirius had grabbed Snape's throat between his hands faster than anyone could see him move.

"Sirius! Drop him this instant!" Dumbledore had roared and Sirius had complied. He hadn't been happy about it though.

He had contented himself with sipping the thermos of blood Tonks had brought for him instead. Sirius had yet to go out hunting in this neighbourhood. To bring something so... vile as death into the lives of the people of Privet drive, even if it was only that of a stray cat or two, seemed horribly _wrong._ This was supposed to be Harry's haven away from the Wizarding World... so Sirius had not eaten in about a day, and was grateful for the gift Tonks had brought.

As the hot water from the filling tub caused steam to float to the ceiling, Sirius examined himself in the slowly fogging mirror. Perfect, is what he was. Flawless. It was eerie. His skin was smooth and markless, pale and almost translucent. His eyes, which had been a blue-grey his whole life, now shone silver, bright and threatening. His teeth, although his fangs were retracted into his gums right now, were still wickedly sharp. He had cut his own tongue on them more than once in his forgetfulness.

His hair was in the best condition it had been in since before Azkaban - it was sleek, shiny, and so black it almost shone blue. He thought briefly about trimming it, or cutting all of it off. He'd never worn it so long before Azkaban, but rather liked it now. No, he wouldn't cut it.

Picking up a razor from the sink, smirking at the fact that the handle read "Lady Gillette", he was glad that only parts of the Vampire legends had been true. He could bend the weather to his will, take bat form, and drank blood, had to avoid direct sunlight and was essentially immortal and unchanging. But he had a reflection and a shadow, garlic and crosses did not affect him, and he certainly didn't _feel_ evil.

And he could shave all by himself, that was rather nice - really enjoyed having his reflection for that one.

He trimmed his beard short slightly, cleaned up the edges, then rinsed out the razor. By this time the tub as full and he slipped into the warm water and sank down to his chin. He knew he didn't have to breathe, but he wasn't prepared to try to stay under the water for any length of time - he'd tried it once and it had reminded him too much of the body numbing sensation of a Dementor approaching.

Sirius sighed once, letting his eyes flutter closed, and tried not to think. He needed to get some rest before tomorrow. Perhaps tonight, after he popped by to talk to Petunia, he would go find a nice dance club and hit on a few pretty girls. It was Devil's night after all, and one was supposed to party.

Better than thinking about tomorrow night being the anniversary of Prong's death.

* * *

At around 11am, the doorbell rang, and this time Petunia was a little more cautious opening it. It wasn't raining outside, but on the doorstep stood Sirius Black, underneath a ridiculous yellow and red spotted umbrella.

"May I come in?" he asked and she opened the door wider.

"I... didn't expect you back, Mr. Black," she said softly and followed him into the living room where they both sat awkwardly on the couches.

Sirius folded the umbrella and set it down on the coffee table between them. "I honestly didn't expect to be back, Mrs. Dursley," he started softly. But there was a distinct growl in his voice. "Understand that I hold nothing but contempt for a woman who can so thoroughly hate her own sister that she would psychologically destroy her own nephew for reasons which are invalid and racist." Petunia blinked and swallowed hard but Sirius didn't give her the time to respond. "I should have been Harry's guardian, and I assure you, the _second_ I am pardoned, I will be taking him away from you and this horrible place forever. But for right now – I wanted to thank you for showing my Harry's room the other day."

"You're... welcome..." Petunia managed to squeak, unsure how to react to the dual threats and compliments coming from Mr. Black.

Sirius looked down at the umbrella, flicked his impossibly bright eyes to the clock over the mantle for a brief second, then looked down at his hands, balled into fists on his knees. "I wanted to talk to you about... Harry... some more."

Petunia sucked on her lower lip. "I... don't know much about him..." she admitted, feeling a burning blush of shame flushing her face. "He doesn't do much. We don't get letters from school, we don't send any. In the summers he just... wanders around. We hardly see him. He never made trouble in primary school, though, except for a few... instances... that made Vernon furious. Just some... stuff that happened. Because... you know..."

"Because Harry's a wizard," Sirius finished for her, meeting her gaze steadily with a burning intense look. "Because Harry's a wizard, a damned good one, just like his parents. And his parent's friends."

Petunia said nothing.

"You know, Harry is doing wonderfully in school. Not amazing. He got all of his OWLs this year - except for Astronomy, which is understandable. The exam was interrupted. He's mastered some spells that even an adult like me finds difficult. He's a great Quidditch player and a good friend and has proven himself very brave."

"Because he killed a ... a basilisk?" Petunia whispered, tripping over the foreign word.

Sirius looked at her. "How do you know that?"

"I..." she gestured helplessly with her hand at the ceiling. "I read this book, in his room... 'Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century.' It said he was the first wizard to ever kill one alone. Is that... a hard thing to do?"

Sirius sat back and sighed a little. "A basilisk is a very large, extremely aggressive predatory serpent - it can kill a human being by just _looking_ at you. One was in the school, had been set on the students by a real psycho - Harry killed it all by himself to protect his friend Ron's little sister. So yeah – Harry's brave."

Petunia wrung her hands in her lap. "The book also says that ... I know my sister and her h-husband were killed but that Dark Lord guy. But it says that... that you betrayed them to him. That you're his lieutenant. Is that why you're here? To ... kill us?"

Mr. Black stared at her with disbelief, then a slight smile cracked the line of his frown. "No, I am not here to kill you, or your husband, Mrs. Dursley - no matter what horrible things you have done to Harry and to my friend Lily, I would not kill you. Nor do I work for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I work against him."

Petunia blew out a sigh of relief. "Harry had written in the margins of his book - said it was Pettigrew, not you."

"It's true."

"So you don't work for ... Voldemort?"

"No, and we try not to say his name."

"Sorry."

There was a silence. "I don't suppose you want any tea?" Petunia asked timidly.

"I can't have it, but thank you all the same."

Another silence.

"Was that ... all you wanted to say?"

Mr. Black regarded her cooly and she felt intense fear shivering up her spine.

"No," he finally sighed, "I came to talk to you about something else. I... the death of Lily and James' anniversary is tomorrow night."

Petunia jumped slightly. "It is?"

Mr. Black made a sound like an aborted growl. "You don't even know the day your own sister died!" Petunia shook her head and lowered her eyes, the blush of shame intensifying. "Jeeze, you Muggles. Well, it is. And tomorrow night, You-Know-Who is going to attack Hogwarts and try to kill Harry."

"What!"

"I'm going to try to stop it - a bunch of us are. The Aurors will be there, too."

"Aurors?"

"Like your Puh-leece."

"Oh... why are you telling me this?"

Sirius closed his eyes for the briefest of seconds, looking suddenly weary. "If something happens... if Harry is hurt or... or, god forbid... killed... I want you to know that I... well, I suppose it won't mean much to you but... Harry will only have been hurt because I'm dead."

Petunia frowned, confused. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm telling you that I'm going and I'm going to protect Harry and ... I just wanted to know if there was... anything... maybe... you'd like to say to him. You'd like me to say to him for you... you know... just in case."

Petunia's breath caught in her throat. Harry may die, that's what Mr. Black was saying. Harry may die tomorrow night, and him too, and Petunia... he was offering Petunia a chance to... to ... maybe not _make up_ with Harry but to at least... have a change to not have her regretting anything if he did die.

"Tell him," she began, gulping hard to force away the burning in the back of her eyes. "Tell him that... I hope he's okay and... and that... I think he looks so much like his mother. When I look at him, when I see his eyes, it ... it sometimes makes my heart hurt. Tell him... tell him that I really really miss my sister. Can you say that to him, Mr. Black?"

"I can." Mr. Black stood and retrieved the umbrella. "Have a good afternoon, Mrs. Dursley."

"Wait, please," Petunia shot to her feet. There had to be something... something to send to Harry with her message. "Please, wait here a moment. " She dashed up to her bedroom and rummaged through her costume jewellery until she came upon a well hidden silver pendant. It was in the shape of an elegant deer-buck with flashing ruby eyes. Petunia had received it on her wedding day. An Owl had flown into her window and dropped it on the floor beside her, where she had been doing her make-up for the ceremony, and wheeled around in mid air and flew back out the window.

Petunia had always known it had been from her sister, even though she was not allowed to speak of it, and there was no note attached.

She came back downstairs and pressed the pendant into Mr. Black's hands. "This was a gift from Harry's mother. She sent it to me on her wedding day. Can you give it to Harry?"

Sirius looked down at the pendant. "Prongs," he said softly.

"Who?"

"Prongs - James' nickname. He... he could transform himself into a deer, like this. Remus helped Lily pick this out, and they showed me before they sent it. I remember this thing."

Petunia blinked to clear away the tears that were threatening. "Can you give it to Harry?"

"Yeah, yeah I can."

"Thank you. And... I hope everything goes well for you tomorrow."

"Thanks."

"Will... will Ms. Oldwyn be joining you?"

Mr. Black blinked and looked up from the silver bauble in his hand. "Ana?"

"Yes. Will she be... fighting with you? I ... haven't seen her about."

Sirius frowned and snapped open the umbrella, shoving the pendant into his pocket. "Ana and my best friend Remus were captured by Lord Voldemort almost two weeks ago. They'll probably be dead by tomorrow night."

Petunia gasped in horror and he turned on his heel and opened the front door.

"Happy Hallowe'en, Mrs. Dursley," he said and walked out into the sunlight, the yellow and red spotted umbrella above his head to block the glare of the sun.

* * *

Ana knelt beside the cage that held the shivering Remus and reached her hand between the bars to smooth back his hair. "Hey," she said softly. "Hey, you awake?"

Remus stirred and looked up slowly, his arms and legs pulling in closer against his chest. "Ana?" he said in a voice that was rough and pained. He was shaking, his teeth chattering, a thin black cloak wrapped around him like an ineffectual cocoon.

"Yeah, it's me. It's Devil's night."

"Tomorrow, then?"

"Yeah." There was a pause as they looked at each other, knowing that the other knew. Tomorrow they were going to attack Hogwarts. Tomorrow they would be forced to stand with the Death Eaters. Tomorrow they would probably die if they tried to defect. "- Remus, they brought me here to... my Master is missing. They need someone to control you in your wolf form. For tomorrow, I mean."

Remus closed his eyes slowly, as if it pained him. She let her hand rest on his shoulder. "They want you to do it."

"Voldemort hasn't learned how to yet, and he'll be distracted. They want me to do it, yes."

"Voldemort? What do you mean?"

Ana grinned slightly. "I bit Voldemort."

Remus managed a gasp, which sent him into a fit of coughing. No one had been keeping the fire up in the room the past few days, and he was cold in the damp air. "Vol–Voldemort's a vampire?"

Ana shook her head. "No, I said I 'bit' him. Never said I turned him."

"So the black dots...?"

Ana's grin got bigger. "Shhhhh - it's a secret."

Remus managed a weak laugh. "Can't wait to get outta here." Ana lay down on the floor and deftly pulled off the robe, leaving it draped around her shoulders. "Ana?"

"Just a sec." She shivered once and clenched her face in an expression of concentration and suddenly she was a bat. She crawled out of the robes and into the cage between the bars, then transformed back and quickly snatched the robes off the floor and pulled them around her. "You look cold."

She snuggled in behind Remus and wrapped her arms and legs around him.

"I am... oh, that's nice. Thank you."

They stayed that way for a few moments, Remus's shivering slowly ceasing. Finally he asked, "So what will we do?"

"I'll put you under my control," Ana said softly, and he could feel her cool breath tickling his ear. "And I guess we just wing it."

"Wing it," Remus agreed, closing his eyes and snuggling back into the Vampire. "Sounds like a great plan."

"Oh, then you make up a better one," she teased softly, but Remus was already asleep.

* * *

Lucious Malfoy pulled his wand polish out of his sock drawer. It was an inelegant place to keep it, but he never lost it there. He sat on the end of his bed and started to slowly and lovingly attend to his wand.

Tomorrow... ah... tomorrow he would kill so many with it. He was delighted.

As he polished the laquer into his wand, he went over his mental checklist for the millionth time:

Mask - check

Black Robes Dry Cleaned - check

Sent a letter to Draco to tell him to fake sick tomorrow so he's out of the line of fire - check

Kicked the werewolf one last time - check

packed a hand mirror - check

He smiled again, feeling almost giddy.

In fact, he was in such a good mood, he thought he just might go torture a few house elves before ravishing his beautiful wife.


	17. Happy Hallowe'en

Part Seventeen: "Happy Hallowe'en"

* * *

Sirius waited by the open window for an owl, news, a witch or wizard to come pick him up, _anything_. It was nearing noon on Hallowe'en day and he was beginning to get antsy.

They wouldn't cut him out of this, would they?

Not after everything that he'd done to get here. He'd escaped from Azkaban, he'd faced down Dementors, he'd been on the run, he'd broken free from the Veil, he'd allowed himself to become a Vampire, all to protect Harry. Harry, his godson, child of James and Lily, two of the three people who meant the most in the world to him. Remus being the other of course.

Or, no, he supposed it was five now: James, Lily, Remus, Harry.

And Ana.

Thinking about Ana made his chest ache, so he stopped. Instead the circles his brain was running him in brought him back to the thought of tonight. Sirius had opened Ana's home to the Order of the Phoenix, been vocal in all of their plans, slept all night to be rested up, didn't go on his yearly 'oh-my-god-its-Hallowe'en-and-James-and-Lily-are-dead' bender so as not to be hung over, fed early, everything! They wouldn't not let him go... would they?

Unless they were worried.

Worried that _what_? He might go psycho? He might get hurt? He might fall under the power of Ana's Sire? Or Ana herself? Sirius sucked on his bottom lip, his beard bristling with the action. Would that be it? They were cutting him out because he was a possible weakness? Sirius shook his head. No, he was damn near immortal, a good dueller, a supporter of the light, and an animagus - how could he possibly be a weakness? If anything, he would be a secret weapon. Lucious Malfoy and many of the Death Eaters may not know that he was a Vampire - if not, then he would have an advantage.

With a great puffing sigh, Sirius turned away from the window. It would do him no good to stand by it. He'd been perched on a chair by the window day in, day out, for nearly two weeks, waiting for news, waiting for Ana to appear in the yard below him, for Remus to run up the drive, _anything._

He was sick of waiting.

He went down to the living room and sat on the sofa, lifted the remote and tossed it back and forth between his hands, but did not turn on the television. He had enjoyed the programming every now and again on the strange little box, but to distract himself now with it seemed… trivial. Unrespectable. Instead he put down the remote and dipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out the small silver pendant that Petunia Dursley had given him.

It was shaped like a stag with chips of brilliantly sparkling rubies for its eyes. Sirius hadn't been lying when he'd told her that he remembered the pendant. He recalled quite vividly pitching a fit in the middle of the Potter living room at Godric's Hollow, Lily in the doorway, the pendant in her hand, the size of a small boat.

Harry would be born in another few weeks, Sirius remembered, and would be orphaned just a few months after his first birthday.

"You're bloody kidding me!" Sirius had howled, hands thrown up into the air. "You spent thirteen galleons on a trinket for some Muggle who hates you!"

"She's not _some Muggle,_ Sirius!" Lily had shouted back, peeling off her scarf and hat. She had barely been inside the front door when she had rushed to show everyone what she had bought for Petunia on her wedding day. Lily's mother had owled her about the date, apologizing that she and James were not invited, but Lily had rushed out to buy a gift anyway, even if it was a small one.

"Remus, you let her!" Sirius bawled at the Werewolf coming in the door behind Lily.

Remus only shrugged. "You don't understand, Sirius, this is her sister--"

"You didn't see me wasting money on Regulus, did you?"

James came up beside Sirius and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Padfoot - Lily and her sister used to be really close. There's no reason not to send Petunia a present."

"Except that you weren't invited to her wedding," Sirius snarked.

Lily closed her eyes slowly, as if the very thought pained her greatly.

"Sirius," James started, a note of sternness creeping into his voice.

"Lily," Sirius said quickly, breaking away from James to take her hands in his. "I'm sorry. Its not my place to tell you what you can and can't do - but just remember, she doesn't _want_ you. We do."

Lily smiled thinly. "She's my sister, Sirius. Even if we're not speaking now, who knows about next week? Or next month? Or next year? I can't give up hope that she'll want to talk to me again, let me be a part of her life ... realize that we're not all ... _freaks._"

Behind her Remus cleared his throat and pointed at Sirius. "Well, some of us are kinda freaky, right Padfoot? But that's not the same."

James grinned, and the situation was effectively diffused with laughter.

"What's so funny?" A mousey voice asked from the doorway and everyone turned to see Peter standing there, itching his forearm idly. He'd claimed that he'd banged it a few days ago and he said the skin was still pretty tender. Lily had offered to fix it up for him with a spell, but he insisted that he could heal fine all on his own, but thanks anyway.

Remus clapped Peter on the back and pulled him into the house to show him the pendant. . .

Sirius closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snarling. _Banged his forearm indeed - he had probably just received the Dark Mark. _

Sirius lay down on the couch and covered his face with crook of his arm, blocking out all the diffused light leaking into the room through the blinds. What would he do if they really were cutting him out of the plans? He couldn't leave the house unless they did send for him, but if he waited and it turned out that they weren't going to summon him at all, by the time he knew it for certain it would probably be too late to get to Hogwarts in any decent time.

And Lord Pain-in-the-Butt hadn't exactly given them a time flag - as far as Sirius knew, Harry and his friends could be in mortal peril right now.

That did it.

Sirius stood and went up to the bedroom and retrieved his robe from the foot of the bed and threw it on. When he had gotten back from the Dursleys he had carefully read the instructions on the washing machine and cleaned all of his clothes - now his robe was lint-free and fresh-smelling, his black jeans crisp, and his dark green turtleneck soft and clean.

He'd never had to do his own laundry before - he'd always had house elves to do it for him. The fact that he had managed to make the machines in Ana's basement work without blowing up her house was a great achievement to him. Maybe, if he did indeed come back to live with Ana as a Muggle, he wouldn't suck at it too much.

He patted down his pockets, making sure he hadn't forgotten anything - he had Ana's house keys, Harry's pendant, a dagger he had brought with him from Grimmauld Place, and Ana's spare watch - and wished, not for the last time, that he'd found the time to get a new wand since getting back from the Veil. For tonight, he'd have had to steal one, which he didn't like the thought of. A wizard's wand was a part of them, a thing that knew them intimately, a part of their soul.

Wielding a part of someone else's soul never worked as well as wielding one of your own. Besides, it was a dreadfully intimate thing, a wand. Touching someone else's wand without permission was sort of like groping them.

Sure that he had everything he needed, Sirius locked and deadbolted the front door, and was just about to sneak out the back with the yellow and red umbrella when a light tapping came from the kitchen window. He cautiously went to investigate and found Hedwig sitting patiently on the outside sill, clicking her beak against the window pane. He flung open the window and eagerly opened his hands to the package she dropped into them.

He tore away the brown packaging paper and rough twine and hastily unwrapped it. Into his hands rolled a dark blue bag - from the smell of it, it seemed like it was filled with lemon drops. Sirius smiled: Dumbledore.

Pinned to the bag was a note: _Padfoot: Find the portkey, and please return my sweets to me. -D_

Sirius grinned, thanked Hedwig with a head scratch, and closed the window after her when she soared out into the sky with a soft hoot. Then he plunged his hand into the sweets bag and felt around. The familiar tugging behind the navel grabbed hold of him and suddenly Sirius found himself standing in Albus Dumbledore's office.

"Here's your candy back, Headmaster," he said amiably and tossed the bag to the old wizard. Dumbledore caught it out of the air deftly and grinned. Sirius looked around - in the office already stood Tonks, Hagrid, Kingsley, Mad-Eye Moody, several Aurors he'd never met before but who didn't look too surprised to see him, and a few other Order members who were just porting in themselves. Molly and Arthur Weasley were among the last to arrive, followed closely by Fred and George. Bill and Charlie were already standing in the back.

"Are we all here?" Dumbledore asked once the soft popping sounds that had signalled the arrival of people had ceased.

"Here and ready to kick some Death Eater ass, sir!" one of the twins piped up and everyone laughed.

"Right then," Moody growled, but it was that growl he made when he was happy. (Which was sometimes hard to distinguish between his other growls.) "Everyone gather around - Portraits, you listen up, we're going to rely on you to give us the advanced warning. Sirius, come stand beside me, you're integral to this part..."

* * *

Harry narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin table. Almost half of them were missing. There had been an explosion from Draco Malfoy's cauldron in Potions that morning, and for some reason only the Slytherins in the room had caught some strange disease that required them remaining in the Hospital Wing overnight.

It was suspicious. Firstly, Draco Malfoy's potions _never_ backfired. Secondly, all the Slytherins missing - Goyle, Crabbe, Malfoy, Parkinson, Avery, Brooks, Zambini, and some others he wasn't sure about – were the children, nieces or nephews of Death Eaters.

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, casting a brief and worried glance at Dumbledore. The Headmaster winked at him and redoubled his efforts in trying to pull the taffy out of his long white beard.

He got the sticky candy stuck in his facial hair every year, and many students wondered how much their headmaster must love it to risk the annual entanglement. Harry secretly thought that Dumbledore did it to make the first-years laugh.

Harry poked at the Hallowe'en feast on his own plate, but wasn't up to eating. He didn't feel like talking either. All around him, the students were engaged in boisterous chatter and laughter, celebrating the middle of the Fall term and the joy of candy.

Snape was looking decidedly sour, as usual.

Everybody looked so... _normal_.

So _happy_.

It depressed Harry even more...

_... they had no idea what was coming._

* * *

"Get up!" a deep voice called and Remus started. "Wake up you, mutt!"

He pulled the stolen cloak closely about him and snuggled into the warmth at his back, loath to leave it.

_Warmth?_

He craned his aching head wearily, hot pain from stiff muscles shooting up his spine; _ah, Ana._ She was awake and glaring at the Death Eater over Remus' shoulder.

"Up, both of you!" called another voice from the white-masked and black-robed mob and a boot crashed into the side of the low ceilinged cage.

Remus fought to sit up without hurting himself too much, the shivers returning immediately. Ana deftly slipped her arms into the sleeves of the borrowed robe and cinched it closed.

With a wave of a wand, the only green-glad Death Eater made the cage vanish, and Ana shot to her feet. She didn't try to attack anyone as there were simply too many of them, but she stood protectively over the huddled Remus, just in case one of them tried anything.

The one with the green robe raised a thin, bony hand and Ana realized that this was Voldemort. He wore no mask, only a hood deep enough to swallow all but his chin and lips in the shadows. She was delighted to see that the tiny veins under his greenish pale skin had begun to turn black.

"Anathema..." he hissed, and she could tell that he was straining to remain upright just by the harshness of his voice. It was a wonder that Voldemort didn't call off the attack until he was feeling better.

_He must be quite the stubborn ass,_ she decided, and that suited her just fine.

Voldemort in his weakened state was a definite advantage to the side of the Light, but Ana would have to keep an eye on him. She didn't want to suddenly be tackled if the thing inside him decided it wanted blood. The crazed behaviour couldn't help but aid the side of the Light… it was just a matter of dodging him if the blood-madness suddenly kicked in. Nothing would be worse than a fully Vampire Voldemort.

Ana stepped forward and took the Dark Lord's cold, clammy hand and knelt at his feet, pressing her lips to his knuckles, like she had seen so many other Death Eaters do.

"My Lord?" she said softly, eyes on the carpet.

Behind her Remus made a choking sound of disbelief and a smattering of chuckles bounced around the crowd.

The blond one came forward and slipped a mask over Ana's face and she quailed - _a white, expressionless prison mask!_ But she did not tear it off. She clenched her hands into fists to give her fingers something to do besides scrabbling at the ties. When he stepped back to the Lord's side, she pushed it up to the top of her head and smiled.

"I would give you the Dark Mark if it would stay on your flesh," Voldemort hissed. "The Werewolf we will brand now, and then be on our way."

Remus whined low, eyes darting around the room, landing painfully on Ana. He tried to shake his head and gave up halfway through the gesture. If he had ears on the top instead of the sides of his head, they'd be pressed against his skull – if he'd had his tail, it would have been firmly between his legs.

Ana hesitated, and two Death Eaters came forward to jerk Remus to his feet, his joints stiff. The stolen cloak fluttered to the floor, leaving him totally exposed and vulnerable. He looked so _thin._

A third raised a wand and Ana immediately jumped to her feet.

"My Lord!" she cried out and they paused. "Please, permit me to say..." she hesitated and tried not to meet his eyes. Voldemort gestured for her to go on. "I hear the giving of the Mark is painful, and pain could keep my influence over him at bay."

Voldemort nodded slowly. "Of course, yes... afterwards then. We brand the Werewolf when he wears the blood of Harry Potter on his muzzle!"

The dozens of Death Eaters gave up a cheer and Remus was dropped. He hit the floor hard and curled up into a ball, hands over his sensitive ears. Ana only stood at the side of the Dark Lord and tried not to look at him. Pettigrew was the only other person in the room besides Ana and Remus not shouting with joy, although his face held a silent, maniacal grin.

From under his arm, Ana could see the sliver of white as Remus glared and bared his teeth at his betrayer friend.

"My loyal subjects!" Voldemort screeched over the din, and all silenced immediately. "Prepare your portkeys! The Potions Master has so agreeably readied them for the stroke of ten o'clock, and we will be brought to the Great Hall of Hogwarts! You know your duties!" There was another raucous cheer. The blond one forced his hand into Ana's, a glinting silver object between them. Voldemort then levelled his eyes on Remus. "As for you, Werewolf..." he raised his wand, "_Lumoslunas_!"

A great sphere of silver light shot out of the end of his wand and hit Remus square in the back. He shuddered and arched, his mouth and eyes open in a silent scream.

"Happy Hallowe'en!" Voldemort shrieked, and suddenly Ana felt a pulling sensation deep behind her bellybutton.

* * *

Every seven years, at the stroke of midnight on the even of Samhain, the Fey Queen must give up a sacrifice to the Guardian of Hell in order to keep the Eternal Darkness off the Earth.

It was yet ten o' the clock, and the sacrifice had not been chosen.

She was waiting for the one who called himself the Dark Lord to give her the sacrifice he had promised her. In return for the loyalty of the Dark Elves once he had rule of the Wizarding folk, this mortal Voldemort had promised to provide the Fey realm with the Samhain candidate - either a young boy with green eyes, or a female Vampire with blue.

It just mattered on how the battle ended.

* * *

Remus could feel his flesh turning inside out and began to scream. _No!_ He didn't want this! He wouldn't _do_ this! But he had no choice - as the spell hit him, he felt the silver fire turn his innards to liquid, felt his physical form shifting, transforming, solidifying into a new shape.

He growled. Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a silvery voice, calling his name, and Remus the man swam towards the sound, trapped in the black and red mind of the ravenous wolf.

" Remus!" the voice called and he recognized it.

"Ana!" he called out, but he couldn't make his lips form the words. They were awkward, alien in this beast-body. Remus shoved the wolf's consciousness aside with viciousness, slipping his arms down the wolf's forelegs, settling his legs into the wolf's haunches, his head into its head, his mouth in the wolf's mouth, his eyes behind the beastly eyelids.

He forced the eyes to open, and whined with joy where he saw Ana's eyes mere inches from his muzzle. She wore the deep hood and the blank, expressionless white mask of the Death Eaters, but her voice and eyes were unmistakable. The Vampire's vision bored deep into his, glowing silver, bright and commanding and angelic.

Saved! 

"Remus," Ana said again and the Wolf body pressed forward, tail wagging eagerly, to nuzzle under chin. He was grateful, so grateful that Ana had spared him from his full-moon madness. Control! Finally, he was in control of the wolf form, and not the other way around. It felt so good!

"Listen to me Remus," Ana whispered, her voice tight with urgency. Remus cocked his head and pricked his ears forward. Ana seemed worried. What was there to be worried about? The full moon had risen, he was secure behind the bars of a cage...

...or wait, no... 

He was _not_ in a cage. He was free. The wolf struggled to shove Remus out of control at this revelation. Remus locked his gaze with the Vampire's, stubbornly refusing the blood-thirsty animal release. And the full moon hadn't risen. It had been... _Voldemort's spell. _

Remus whipped his head around and jumped to his paws, snarling. Around him stood a swarm of black robes.

"Silence, Remus," Ana hushed him and Remus did as he was told, not because she had commanded it, but because he trusted Ana. His yellow eyes scanned the room. He recognized it.

This was the Great Hall of Hogwarts. He and Ana stood beside the snake-faced Dark Lord. Peter Pettigrew and Lucius Malfoy were on his other side. Before them stood the Head Table, and behind that, Albus Dumbledore, half-risen in his seat, his jaw open and his expression dumbstruck.

The students all around them were screaming, the rest of the Death Eaters hedging them in, lining the walls. A few students lay twitching and convulsing on the floor or in their seats. One looked like he was dead. A shock of red hair capped his head and Remus squeezed his eyes shut, praying that it was not Ron Weasley. He couldn't see the boy's uniform, and he was laying on the stone flags between the long dining tables of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.

Underneath the head table Remus could smell the distinct odour of Dog.

_Padfoot! _

Remus whined once, low, and jerked his muzzle at the long table cloth which hid his friend. Ana followed his line of slight and blinked once, slowly. She smelled him too.

Good. 

* * *

No one in the room moved a muscle, wands pointed in all directions. The students froze, stunned, terrified. The screaming died down.

Horrified, thick silence fell on them like a wet blanket.

Then, slowly, deliberately, Harry Potter pushed his bench back. The wooden legs scraped against the stone, sounding like a wounded scream.

"You've put me off my dinner," he said slowly, and the room gasped collectively. He reached into his robes and withdrew his wand, raising the tip to point directly at Voldemort.

Behind their masks, the Death Eaters eyes flicked between their Lord and the Boy-Who-Lived. Time froze.

Then, suddenly, Severus Snape leapt from his chair and wrapped his elbow around Albus Dumbledore's neck, pressing his wand tip to the elderly wizard's temple.

"Severus, no!" Poppy Pomfrey shrieked, but no one else said a thing.

Slowly, Lord Voldemort began to laugh. It started as a mere frame-shaking chuckle and crescendoed into a shrieking, shrill scream of excitement. "My potionssss massster!" he shrieked and Harry grimaced.

"Shut up!" the boy snarled and Remus pressed his ears to his skull at the fury in Harry's voice. "Shut up, you murdering _bastard_!"

Voldemort sucked in a deep breath and levelled his gaze at Harry. "Raise your wand to me, boy," he hissed. "I am ready for you."

Harry raised his wand.

* * *

Under the table, Sirius shivered, his nose twitching madly at all the conflicting scents. The food on the tables, the slick fear of the students, the pungent reek of Voldemort's decaying body, the musky pine-tree smell of Remus' wolf form, and above all that, the sweet metallic scent of his master, Ana.

He wanted to streak out from under the table and latch his teeth onto Voldemort's arm. But not yet. Not yet.

He listened carefully to the words, poised, ready to spring when necessary. He teased out the scent of his quarry. There, that was Malfoy. And that Pettigrew. And that... his tongue lolled out of his mouth in a big doggy grin... that was his dearest cousin Bella.

* * *

Peter Pettigrew twitched his eyes from one side of the room to the other.

Something was not right...

* * *

Suddenly Voldemort let out a high-pitched scream, hand clapped to the sides of his head.

Harry jumped. He hadn't cast any spells yet, what was going on?

"_I want it!_" The Dark Lord shrieked, and the Death Eater behind him, standing beside the large wolf that had to be Remus Lupin, took a minute step backwards. Voldemort turned on his heel and lunged at her, Harry forgotten. "_Give me the blood!_" he cried out, and Harry leapt at the opportunity of his turned back.

"_Crucio!_" he screamed, but Malfoy (Harry recognized him for his unforgettably poncy wand) flung himself in the way of the blast and hit the floor hard, writhing and shrieking.

All hell broke loose.

* * *

Severus Snape yanked Dumbledore backwards hard, and threw him against the stone wall separating the great windows behind the Head Table. "Forgive me, Headmaster," he hissed under his breath and Albus spared him a brief wink.

"Don't leave too much of a bruise," Albus said kindly, then his head snapped back as Severus' fist connected with his cheek. Dumbledore went down and stayed down.

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange's laughter was grating above the screams of the students. The other Death Eaters were struggling to destroy the Hogwarts Professors and get at Potter. The Gryffindors were creating a veritable wall of cannon fodder between the Boy-Who-Lived and the Death Eaters, who did not dare turn their backs to the Head Table to properly attack.

* * *

Just as many Death Eaters were falling to shouted immobilizing curses as Students.

The strange thing was, they couldn't seem to see who was actually casting the spells – the students would gesture and shout, but nothing seemed to happen. Then, when no one was around, Death Eaters would be hit from the side or behind where no student was standing!

Bella pointed her wand at Harry's back. The boy was occupied with trying to get at Voldemort, who in turn was backing the Vampire girl into the Ravenclaw table.

Bella didn't understand why her Lord was doing that. All she knew was that she had the perfect shot at Harry.

She wasn't about to give it up.

"Harry!" a bushy-haired girl screamed and flung herself at Bella just as she let out a loud "_Avada Kedavra_!" Bella didn't even spare the teary-eyed girl a glance as she crumpled to the ground, the last stragglings of her soul flickering behind brown doe eyes.

Just another corpse to step over.

A loud snarling growl rent the air and Bella barely had time to turn her head before a large black blur slammed into her body, sharp teeth ripping into the flesh of her hand, tearing, forcing her wand out of her grip. 

She screamed, wrestling against the thing on her, stilling only when she felt the weight of it shift. Sirius Black – _dead and in the Veil Sirius Black_ - sat on top of her, pinning her down, her own wand pointed at her face.

"Hallo, cousin," he said amiably.

"_You're supposed to be dead!_" she shrieked.

"Funny thing, that," he sighed, and shrugged. "_Petrifcus Totallus._"

* * *

Death Eaters were being picked up by an invisible force and hurled with great strength at the walls, where they splattered."Good one, Grawp!" Hagrid crowed, hands pumping in the air. "Get that one, over there!" 

Someone had enchanted the giant to be invisible!

* * *

Harry was struggling through a sea of panicked and dying students, tears of frustration and anger forming in the corners of his eyes as the crowd prevented him from gaining on Voldemort. The Death Eater he was advancing on was fleeing, fumbling in robes that were obviously too big for her.

"Fight me!" Harry screamed, but the Dark Lord did not turn to him. What was this? Was he being ignored? Or was this a ploy?

Harry shoved a Hufflepuff girl aside, and climbed onto the Gryffindor table, walking over the Hallowe'en Feast to get at Voldemort. He would not, _he would not let Voldemort get away alive! _Suddenly a Death Eater leapt onto the table between them, and Harry raised his wand at its face.

"Now, now, Harry," said a snivelling voice, and Harry shuddered. The Death Eater drew aside his mask to give the boy a glimpse of his pointed face.

"Pettigrew," Harry answered, his jaw tightening. "I owe you."

Pettigrew laughed. "Go on, Harry, if you think you can defeat me." He raised his silver hand, the index finger pointed at Harry's nose. "I've become a very good dueller."

"You're nothing but a murdering coward!"

Peter snarled. "I'll teach you manners, yet! I won't be treated that way! Not by you! Not by your father, not by anyone! _I won't be ignored any longer_!"

Behind them a woman shouted, "Then take all of our attention, Rat! Lupin, get Pettigrew !"

Harry jumped backwards as the giant tawny wolf threw itself at Peter, who shrieked in horror and tumbled off the table, making a mad dash for the door. The wolf bayed and the chase was on.

Harry wrenched his attention away from Pettigrew's bloody fate and back to Voldemort. He had the Death Eater woman who had screamed bent backwards over the Ravenclaw dining table, his fingers curled into her hair in a painfully tight grip, his teeth hovering over her neck. Her mask, however, was still in place.

Harry bolted down the table, kicking aside dishes and candy, and sprang into the air, hurling himself at the Dark Lord. He crashed into Voldemort, knocking him aside, onto his face on the hard stone floor, and then hit the bench himself. Harry heard a loud crack and suddenly his whole side exploded with pain.

Broke a rib, maybe, he thought, fighting to keep on his feet.

He heard Voldemort screaming, "_The blood, the blood!" _

Harry kicked out, tripping Voldemort, who slammed into the floor again, rolling onto his side, then sprang up to grab Harry by the front of his robes. "_I'll kill you for getting in my way!_" Voldemort grabbed Harry's wrist in a crushing grip. Harry refused to open his fist with the pain, refused to drop his wand. The loud and stomach-lurching _SNAP_ rang out and Harry shrieked as his wrist broke.

Harry's eyes widened in panic.

His wand clattered to the ground and Voldemort kicked it away. It was lost under the many trampling feet of his fellow students, perhaps broken, he didn't know.

He was defenceless, now!

"_Expelliarmus!" _

The came cry from the Death Eater Voldemort had been attacking, and the Dark Lord was blown back, away from Harry. She was leaning against the table, one hand to her throat in a protective gesture, the other in a white-knuckled grip around her black wand.

A loud bird cry rang out, clear over the din of screams and the press of bodies, and Harry looked up.

It was Fawkes!

And in his talons he carried the Sorting Hat.

Yes, of course! Harry's wand had vanished under the stampeding feet of the panicked students, but he had another weapon he could use!

"Down here!" he cried to the Phoenix, and Fawkes went into a nosedive.

* * *

Sirius watched the rolling fistfight going on between Voldemort and his godson, fighting to get to Harry, shoving students and Death Eaters alike aside.

He watched in horror as the Death Eater pulled out a wand, fearing that Harry would be blasted. Sirius recognized it immediately.

It was dark in colour and had two sets of four parallel scratches on its length.

Peter concentrated and transformed into his rat form, zipping below the table cloth covering the Head Table and out the other side. His arm and leg were bleeding from the deep gashes caused by Lupin's fangs and claws.

He squealed in horror as large hands slammed down on him as he emerged from the other side, and he was shoved cruelly into a cage and brought up eye level with his captor.

"Hallo, Pettigrew," Snape sneered.

"Good work, Severus," Albus Dumbledore groaned as he pulled himself to his feet. "Now, into the thick of it!" He raised a hand above his head and shouted, "_FINITE INCANTATUM!" _

Suddenly the students, dead, alive, twitching, screaming, crying, panicking, all of them..._ vanished. _They froze where they stood, life fading from their eyes and limbs, slowly dissolving into drying piles of dust and empty uniforms.

"Golems!" one of the Death Eaters shrieked in anger. "Enchanted to fight us!"

In the middle of the room, the Death Eaters who had been struggling with the crowd stood still, confused and horrified. In a ring all around the Great Hall stood the Hogwarts Professors, augmented with at least three dozen Aurors and Ministry Officials, as well as several wizards and witches known to be avid supporters of the light.

_That's_ where the spells that had seemed to be cast by the students had actually been coming from. No small wonder the Death Eaters couldn't pin point the students attacking - the spells had come from hidden opponents.

" _Now!_" shouted Shacklebolt and Tonks in unison, and multicoloured streams of light shot out of wands to slam into horrified Death Eaters.

Bodies hit the stones and a cheer went up.

Harry ignored it, his eyes fixed on Voldemort, who was struggling back to his feet. He had been on the ground and the spells had flown over his head, missing him.

"_Harry Potter!"_ he hissed, trying and failing to get his limbs under him. He was skidding around like a left-footed cat in an oil slick.

Harry held out his arm. Fawkes landed on the offered perch and dropped the Sorting Hat into Harry's lap. Fawkes was also kind enough to squeeze a few well-placed tears onto Harry's broken wrist, mending it instantly.

"Thanks," Harry said softly, and the bird took to wing to get out of the line of fire. Harry thrust his freshly repaired hand into the hat and wrapped it around the cool silver hilt he knew would be waiting inside.

* * *

Lupin saw Snape capture Pettigrew and lock him in a cage that was then dropped to the tabletop. He then turned around, muzzle twitching madly as he snarled and lunged at various white-masked figures. He ducked when he heard Kingsley and Tonks scream "now" and howled with elation as the Death Eaters fell.

"Ana!" he heard Sirius cry out and bounded over to lope along side his friend as Sirius leapt across the intervening tables to get at her.

They were stopped short as the elder Malfoy sprang to his feet, ripping away his mask, a small hand mirror in his palm.

"Dorin Dracul!" the blond man screamed to his reflection, and Sirius howled:

" _NO!_" 

Ana, who had also thrown off her own mask, leapt forward and batted the mirror out of Malfoy's hand. It went spinning through the air and shattered in a million pieces when it hit the floor. There was a loud bang and a bright flash of light. Everyone in the room cried out and covered their eyes.

Harry, however, was lucky enough to have had his back to it. When Voldemort cringed, Harry leapt at the moment of weakness and lunged.

The Dark Lord managed to skip backwards fast enough to avoid being impaled and swung his hand viciously at Harry. His fingernails dug into Harry's cheek and Harry felt his skin tearing, the blood welling up from the four parallel gashes.

_Little Bastard! _ he heard Voldemort hiss and realized belatedly that he was cussing Harry in Parselmouth.

_Monster! _ Harry shot back in the same language and lunged again. This time the tip of his sword nicked the Dark Lord's arm. He slashed again and was pleased to see Voldemort scramble to get out of the way.

He seemed to be weakening with each attack and Harry grinned, not letting up. The blood continued to flow down his face and Harry wiped the back of his other hand across his lips to keep it from getting into his mouth.

_It would be Voldemort or him this time. _

Suddenly, the Dark Lord tensed up, his body going rigid. His wand clattered from his hand and Harry sprang upon it and brought his sword down, cleaving it in twain. The wand exploded in a shower of green sparks.

Voldemort collapsed to the ground, his body twitching and convulsing, a froth forming at his lips. Something was wrong, and Harry didn't know what it was... but he wasn't going to hesitate, either. If he hesitated, there was no way to be certain that Voldemort wouldn't escape. If he hesitated, there was no telling how many more people may die.

Without a hint of mercy or compassion, Harry Potter raised the glinting silver sword above his head, point down, hands wrapped in a white-knuckled grip around the ruby-speckled hilt.

" Noooo!" the Dark Lord shrieked, face contorted, body writhing, fingers clawing at the hem of Harry's robe. "_No! NO!_" 

With a scream that resounded throughout the Great Hall, harmonizing eerily with Voldemort's high pitched shriek, Harry drove the sword downwards and into the heart of the man who had destroyed so many lives and so much happiness - Harry's included.

On the floor the Dark Lord twitched, gurgling as vile blood filled his lungs and throat, coughed once, a choking green spray of blood and poison and bile, and then died.

Thus passed away the rival of Harry Potter and the greatest Dark Wizard the World had ever seen.

_Thus passed Tom Marvolo Riddle. _

Behind Harry, a great snarl rang out through the hall, and he spun on his heel to come face to face with Ana, her fangs bared and her eyes glowing crimson. She grabbed his shoulders just as he began to say "Wha--?" and sank her teeth into his neck.

Somewhere behind him, Harry heard a low, arrogant laugh that he knew... that he had heard once before in the Veil Room. It mingled with the heaving laughter of Malfoy and the howling of Sirius Black and the wolf that was Remus Lupin.

Harry felt his eyes sliding closed and tried to fight back the waves of darkness threatening to consume him as the blood was sucked from his body.

_No, this isn't supposed to be how it ends, _Harry thought muggily. _I killed Voldemort. Its supposed to be over._

Harry struggled to stay conscious.

He failed.


	18. Dragon's Blood

Part Eighteen: "Dragon's Blood"

* * *

Lupin lunged at Dorin.

The vampire raised his hand towards the werewolf and through grinning teeth hissed, _"heel."_ Remus hit the ground, writhing and whining. He stayed down, paws and ears twitching.

"Remus!" Sirius called out, torn between going to his best friend's side, or going to Harry. There was nothing he could do. "Please, stop!" he cried out, and Dorin twitched his hand. Ana disengaged from Harry, letting him hang limply in her arms. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, erratically - Sirius could hear his gasping breaths, his thudding heart, see his twitching eyelids.

Harry was still alive, but only barely. If he wasn't treated, or released soon...

Sirius didn't know what to do!

"Drop your wands or I kill will the boy and the wolf!" Dorin screeched and after a momentary hesitation, all the adults in the room did so. Sirius let Bella's wand fall from his grip.

Dorin raised his wrist lazily and gestured once. Sirius found himself compelled to move forward, to kneel at this despicable dark-eyed creature's feet. He fought it, willing himself to dig in his heels, but found himself unable to. What sort of power was this? Is this what being a Sire gave you? Power like this over your Progeny? Your children's children?

"So you are my grand-son, the infamous Sirius Black," Dorin sneered, looking down at Sirius and appearing not all that impressed. "Your eyes are pretty, at least."

"Release them!" Sirius snarled, but found no strength in his limbs to attack.

"When I am ready," Dorin sighed. He turned in a small circle, drinking in all the horrified faces around him, the sprawled out and unconscious Death Eaters, the brutalized corpse of the Dark Lord, and lastly, the grinning leer of Lucius Malfoy.

His eyes flicked from the mirror and back to Dorin and the Vampire understood. "Sirius," Dorin hummed and Sirius found himself pulled to his feet like a sick marionette. "Mister Malfoy has done me a great service – reward him."

Sirius was tugged along by his unseen strings and felt his arms wrap around the tall, arrogant blond man. He tried to resist when he felt the colour in his eyes burning away, the pressure as his fangs sliding out, scraping against his other teeth. He could not.

Malfoy closed his eyes, smiling growing, eyes sliding shut. "Thank you!" he said, "Immortality!"

Sirius knew that in his head Malfoy was probably cussing that his Sire was to be Sirius, but Sirius didn't much care. A gnawing suspicion had started to grow in his gut.

Dorin grinned and Sirius felt his stomach drop - no, he wouldn't!

Sirius drove his teeth into Malfoy's flesh and realized... yes, he would. Dorin had no intention of ordering Sirius to _stop. _

Sirius felt eyes burning him, the hateful gaze of the Aurors he had avoided for so long, the worried looks of the Order, and the lustful dark one of Dorin, his grand-sire. He was really going to do it - he was going to kill a human being. He was going to drink all of a person's blood and kill them.

Sirius was going to taste his first human blood.

Not just any human… _Lucius Malfoy_. As much as he had wished for the other man's death in his life, Sirius didn't want it to be at his own hands, with his own fangs!

The whole hall held their breath. It slowly became obvious that Dorin had no intention of telling Sirius to quit. The questions began to cross everyone's faces: Once Malfoy was dead, who would be targeted next? Could they escape with everybody? Many could run right now, and many would gain freedom, but at what cost?

Harry Potter would die. Aurors would be shot in the back. Hogwarts would fall to the Vampire. And for those who cared, Remus, Sirius, and Ana would be lost to Dorin forever.

What hope could they possibly have?

How, after such a brilliant victory, could they have lost control so quickly?

Somewhere deep inside of Hogwarts a loud and booming clock struck midnight. Ana blinked once at the loud sound. Harry twitched. In his cage on the table, Peter squealed in horror. Albus clenched his fists, Snape sneered, and others shifted their gaze or weight about uneasily.

Dorin, however, was the most profoundly effected.

He actually jumped and lifted his hands to his ears.

"_No!"_ he shrieked over the loud voiced bells, _"Stop it!"_

Both Ana and Sirius swayed, dropping their respective captives and clapping their hands over their ears as well, both with blood dripping from their chins.

"_The noise!"_ Ana screamed. Sirius let forth a wordless cry of agony.

Remus sprang at once to his feet, snarling and snapping.

"The clock!" Dumbledore shouted over the booming peals- "The Faiery Chime!"

Snape grimaced at the loud booming. "I thought it was just the damned Hallowe'en clock!" Many of the standing staff nodded their accord. Every Hallowe'en at midnight they rang the deep throated iron bells to celebrate the old Celtic ritual of Samhain. Tradition, and old heresay, claimed that it was done to ward off Faeries who may try to steal a Hogwarts childe to offer the Gate Keeper of Hell as a Samhain Sacrifice.

It had always been like that, as long as Hogwarts had stood. Rumour had it that Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw had chosen to build the castle over the very freshet well that had once said to have redeemed Tam Lin's soul. The bells were charmed to ring out of silly superstition - the bells couldn't really make those of Fey Decent weak... could they?

"No, it's more than that," Dumbledore shook his head. "See how it hurts them, the Dark Children of the Fey!"

All three vampires were bent over their knees, hands clamped to the sides of their heads, wailing. The Werewolf was panting, scratching at his ears with forepaws, whining.

As the crescendoing bells died away, echoing throughout the vast and empty castle, Dorin struggled to his knees, chuckling weakly. "You can't have me!" he screamed into the still air. "I won't go to Hell and you ..._You can't defeat me!"_ He stumbled over to where Ana was kneeling on the ground, her forehead pressed to the cold flag stones, panting. He grabbed her shoulders roughly and yanked her to her feet.

"Summon your bastard son; come!" he shouted into her ear. Her head lolled forward. He shook her roughly. He looked down at the mutt, but the mutt was no longer in wolf shape. Remus Lupin was laying on the ground, his scarred and flushed skin exposed, totally unconscious and completely human again. "Fucking useless animal!"

He shook Ana again and again she didn't respond to him. "I leave you at their mercy, then, wench!" he snarled and shoved her away from him, starting to tug at his clothes so he could transform into his bat shape and escape.

His hold over his three most important weapons had been shattered by the bell. He'd be a fool to stay, now. Let the Light have their small victory. Dorin would outlive them.

Faster than anyone could see, Ana whipped around in mid-air and clamped her arms around his torso. "Get off me!" he shrieked, hitting her about the head, panic rising in his voice.

"You wanted me to reveal the secret of how I defeated Grindelwald," she hissed under her breath, and the whole room sucked in a collective breath of horror. Hadn't Dumbledore defeated that particular Dark Wizard?

"Ana...!" Albus began but she shook her head. He reached into his robes and withdrew a vial of red liquid. With a wave of his wand he sent it spinning into the Vampire girl's hand. Dorin began to struggle in earnest, but Sirius pulled himself to his feet and wrapped Dorin in a bear hug from the back. Using the elder vampire's body to brace herself upright, Ana uncorked the vial with her teeth.

Dorin's nose twitched madly and he shrieked - "no, no, not dragon's blood, you _crazy bitch, stop it!"_

The room was silent as she tipped her head back and emptied the vial into her mouth.

"The twelfth use for dragon's blood," Charlie Weasly gasped somewhere in back of the Head Table, and suddenly every human with a hint of potions knowledge in the room knew what was about to happen. They hit the deck just as Ana tossed aside the vial, letting it shatter, empty, on the stone floor.

She closed her eyes and clenched her fists and a low growling sound began to rumble in her chest. She lunged forward and wrapped herself around Dorin to keep him immobile, and Sirius threw himself away, scrambling madly over the table to sweep down and scoop Remus' prone and unconscious form up into his arms, leaping out of range.

Dorin screamed, struggling madly, but the blood had leant his progeny untold of strength. The glow of her red eyes increased into throbbing beams of crimson light. Her skin took on a sheen, glowing faintly at first, and then with growing strength, giving her a wild and flickering red aura. Dorin's screams rose in parallel to the glow.

Tonks ducked under the table beside Charlie and whispered "I don't get it!"

"Dragon's Blood and Vampire Blood when mixed create a violent chemical reaction," he hissed back, shading his eyes from the intensifying red glow.

"So she's gonna explode!" Tonks cried, horrified.

"Sort of - she has to expel the blood through her skin, only..."

"Only?"

"Only it turns into an acidic poison of sort that only eats apart... well... other Vampires or Dragons."

Tonks smacked her forehead - "And Grindelwald was rumoured to be half dragon-kin–watchout!"

There was a sudden scream from Ana and it shook the eardrums of everyone in the room, shaking the all glass in the place. The red glow burst outwards like a supernova, and Sirius huddled under the protective shield of the furthest table. Somehow Shacklebolt had gotten to him and thrown his large body over the Vampire and Werewolf to protect them.

The light danced and pulsed in the air, a fine red mist sprinkling down on everyone's heads and cloaks. There was a moment of breathless silence as everyone waited with strained ears for proof of the destruction of Ana and Dorin.

The Hall remained, aside from the sounds of pounding hearts and ragged breathing, deathly silent.

It remained that way for a brief moment. Then, as one, they screwed up their collective courage to peek. Slowly, the Aurors and members of the Hogwarts Staff and the Order of the Phoenix stood.

What met their eyes was a sight not expected. In the centre of the room stood a tall, ethereal woman stood with folded hands, long hair and diaphanous gown shrouding her face and figure. She was looking down at the prone figures of Harry and (thank god! All in once piece!) Ana.

"These beings are useless," she said and the humans in the room were awestruck by the musical quality of her voice. "Tainted, both, and far too …human." She lifted a devastatingly lovely face to the crowd and scanned them - her piercing eyes stopped when they fell on Sirius.

"You. You are of my kin. It will be you. Come."

Sirius shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about, Lady. I ain't going anywhere with you."

The woman snarled, her beauty suddenly transformed into brutal fury. "I was promised a Samhain Sacrifice and I will take one! Your bells kept me at bay, so I am short of time! I have only moments to appease the Gate Keeper!"

Sirius' eyes widened. This must be the Fey Queen, come to find a victim to cast into Hell... but who could have made promise with her?

"The Dark Lord is dead," Dumbledore said softly and all eyes turned to him, stunned. "You deal is voided. You will not have Sirius."

"No!" the Queen shrieked. "I will not be thwarted again!"

Sirius jumped to his feet and pointed to the immobilized form of Bellatrix Lestrange, lying on the floor between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. "Have her! And good riddance!"

She Queen descended upon Bella and in a flash of white they vanished.

Sirius threw back his head and began to laugh.

The situation diffused, Pomfrey immediately bustled over to Harry, checked his pulse, then pulled a silver vial from her apron pocked and dumped its contents down the boy's throat. Harry choked, swallowed, sputtered, and sat up. Snape swept over to their side.

"Good thing you brewed up that Potion, Severus," Poppy said softly, helping Harry to remain upright. "Another two hours and it would have been too late."

"Good thing the Headmaster thought about it ahead of time," Snape remarked dryly, then raised his eyebrow at Malfoy, who was also sprawled unceremoniously on the floor, his whole body splashed by red. "I suppose I ought to give him one too. Bleeding to death is too good for him." His smile was terrifying and toothy. "I can't wait to see him turn into a gibbering idiot in Azkaban."

Snape knelt, reaching into his pocket for a second silver vial (each of the Order members carried one), rolled up his shirtsleeves to keep them from getting stained, and froze. His forearm was completely bare, the skin whole and untainted.

The Dark Mark – gone!

His heart leapt, but his face remained stone.

He would celebrate it private.

He lifted Malfoy's head none to gently by his long hair and forced the neck of the vial between his lips.

The first thing Severus Snape would do to celebrate would be to get dead stinking drunk and write a letter of resignation.

To Hell with teaching!

* * *

Meanwhile, Albus and Sirius had rushed to where the red light had emanated from. All that remained of Dorin were his bloody and crumpled Death Eater's Robes and a large puddle of red fluid. Ana lay flat on her back, arms and legs thrown wide, hair tossed about her face. She was still and pale and completely free of any red stains.

"A miracle!" Sirius said, and swept to her side.

"A powerful weapon," Albus intoned gravely as the two men gently lifted her onto the Hufflepuff table and lay her down, pushing aside the untouched food. "One that she never wanted to use again. That's why I said I defeated Grindelwald... because this is too much of a burden for her. While I was experimenting with dragon's blood, when Ana and I were still... together... she drank some by accident. We realized the power of this secret, and used it against Grindelwald but...only as a last resort."

"She'll be okay, though, right?"

Ana closed his eyes slowly. "There's no way to tell. The first time it took her two days to awaken. The last, a whole week. This time... who knows?"

Sirius sighed and leaned forward and brushed his lips against Ana's. "Come back to me," he said softly.

Suddenly, he felt his hands being wrenched behind his back, a wand tip jabbing into his spine.

"Sirius Black!" one of the uniformed Aurors barked and Dumbledore straightened to his full height.

"This is not necessary!" the Headmaster said.

"The 'ell it ain't! 'Es wanted for the murder o' firteen Muggles!" a spell was performed that bound Sirius hand and foot, forcing him onto his knees on the floor. "Sirius Black, by order o'the Ministry of Magic, you 'er under arrest!"

* * *

Harry Potter groaned and sat up, placing a palm against his forehead and willing his headache to go away. He was mildly concerned when he looked up and realized he had no idea where he was. Everything was dark and fuzzy. He felt the bridge of his nose, and sure enough, his glasses were missing.

He patted around him, recognized the feel of the Hospital Wing sheets and the railing on the bed, and reached back and to the left - yes, there was the expected night-stand and his glasses folded neatly on top.

Harry sighed and slipped his glasses onto his face.

He really needed to stop waking up here.

He stretched, looking around, wincing a little at the popping sounds his spine was making. The room was pitch black, save for the moonlight coming through the windows and the dimmed lamps on the far wall.

Beside him, in a single comfortable chair, sat Ron, Hermione curled up on his lap, a large hospital-blanket draped over both of them. Harry smiled. About damn time Ron got up the guts. His own guts twisted slightly with a feeling of guilt.

He had lied to Ron and Hermione, and he felt horrid. But both Sirius and Headmaster Dumbledore had been right - if they had known what was going to happen at dinner that night, they would have found a way to worm out of the seemingly spontaneous school trip to Hogsmeade to hold the Hallowe'en celebrations with the residents of the town in the easily-defendable Town Hall.

Dumbledore had lied and told the students at Lunch that day that a last minute invitation had been extended by the Mayor of Hogsmeade to all the students of Hogwarts and they had all gone eagerly, happy to be off school grounds and going to a real party. The first and second years had been especially excited, as they'd never been on a Hogsmeade weekend before.

Harry had promised to spend the evening with his friends, of course, (and marvelled at how quickly Ron began to blush when it was suggested that he should dance with Hermione), and then excused himself to the washroom.

He went to the Prefects washroom, where he had been told to meet Professor MacGonnegal. She had then transfigured a clay toy soldier into the likeness of Harry and sent it back down to the dining hall to take his place. He had slipped on his Cloak of Invisibility and gone to the Shrieking Shack by way of the Whomping Willow tunnel with Tonks and Shaklebolt. He had stayed there for the rest of the day, going through his charms book to remember all his best curses and jinxes, only coming back near dinner time to attend the Hallowe'en feast among the clay golems of his classmates.

Harry had wanted to tell Ron and Hermione. But he didn't want them in danger, either. Voldemort wouldn't hesitate to use them against him. In fact, the moment he had Apparated into the hall (and how he'd done that, Harry wasn't sure - wasn't Hogwarts supposed to be enchanted against that sort of thing?), the fake Ron had jumped up from the table and threw himself at Voldemort, acting just as brave and rash as the real Ron would have.

And Voldemort tossed the killing curse at him almost lazily.

As easy as that, and Ron could have been dead.

No, Harry was glad they hadn't known.

Deciding not to wake them up, Harry continued to look around the room. Bill Weasly, his long red hair cascading over his pale pillow, was laying on the bed opposite. His leg was bound tightly in bandages which were spotted with red, and Harry hoped that he would be okay. An Auror that Harry didn't know, his deep indigo, gold-bordered dress uniform hanging on the rail beside his bed, had a thick pad of gauze taped over his eye in the bed next to Bill.

Further down the line Nymphadora Tonks lay sleeping with a smile on her face and her arm in a sling. Her cast reminded Harry that he'd probably broken a rib during his scuffle with Voldemort, and he cautiously took a deep breath, testing - nope, no pain. Fawkes' healing tears must have taken care of that too.

His neck itched and he scratched it, then paused, feeling little bumps in the skin. A scar? From what?

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated.

Ana. Ana'd bit him. Yes, that's what the scars were from. But the wound was healed over, which was good. It meant he'd be okay. It was probably the same spell that Hermione had made Harry cast over Sirius to keep him from dying. Harry wondered briefly if Hermione had cast it. No, it had probably been Madam Pomfrey.

Harry resumed looking around the Hospital wing. A few other injured people slept in beds, but they all seemed alive enough. He turned to his right to see if there was anyone else and was surprised to see Remus Lupin tucked under the covers, looking haggard. His eyes were shut, but there were deep lines under them, and dark circles too. He looked thinner than Harry remembered ever seeing the man, and his hair was now almost totally white.

Concerned, Harry slipped out of his bed, stifling a hiss as his bare feet hit the cold stones. He padded silently to his former Professor's side and studied his face carefully. Harry had gotten Sirius' letter, of course. The one saying that Remus and Ana had been taken by Voldemort. And Harry had recognized Remus and Ana when they had appeared among the throngs of Death Eaters.

For a brief second he had been terrified that they had been brainwashed, or something, but they had fought for the side of the Light during the pandemonium, and he had been relieved. Remus seemed cold, huddling down into his blankets, and looked half-starved. He had several dark bruises on his shoulders and a long angry red welt on his cheek, as well as some fresh scratches that looked like they had been made by his own claws.

Harry prayed they wouldn't scar and slipped the spare blanket from the foot of his own bed off and lay it gently over Lupin's frame. Remus' face relaxed slightly and his breathing slowed a bit. Harry hoped the extra warmth would help him rest better.

He was just so thin. Harry bet the Death Eaters had probably starved and beaten Remus Lupin and a surge of red-hot anger swept though him, his fist clenching. His gaze ran over all the people in the room again, and he didn't see any Death Eaters in any of the beds. Good. He hoped they were all in Azkaban by now. Or dead. Harry wouldn't mind a bit if they were dead.

As he looked around, he noticed someone in the bed next to Remus. He padded over to see who it was. He had missed the person the first time because he or she was so small under the blankets, his or her hair so dark that (s)he was lost in the shadows.

Harry's breath caught in his throat when he realized it was Ana.

She wasn't moving at all, her chest not rising or falling with breath, her eyelids not even twitching in REM sleep. For all intents and purposes, she looked dead. Harry quashed the absurd compulsion to reach up and search for a pulse on her neck. Ana was a Vampire. She didn't _have_ a pulse.

Satisfied that she wouldn't be in the Hospital Wing if she was in any danger, Harry turned to go back to his own bed. He jumped and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a yelp of surprise - Headmaster Dumbledore was standing at the foot of Harry's bed with a soft smile on his face.

"Professor," Harry said softly.

Dumbledore gestured at the blankets. "Better get back into bed, Harry," he whispered, "Or Poppy will make me scrub out bedpans."

Harry grinned and did as he was told. Dumbledore sat down on the mattress beside him.

"Nice shiner, Professor," Harry said in a low voice. Indeed, Albus Dumbledore was sporting a beautifully blooming black eye.

Dumbledore winced and rubbed his temple gently. "I'm afraid Professor Snape hits a slight bit harder than I had expected him to. Here, Harry, I've come to return this to you." Dumbledore reached into his long sweeping sleeve and produced Harry's wand. The middle was broken, a small tuft of red feather poking out from under the cellotape which was holding it together. "Ronald did the repair job."

Harry chuckled gently. "I can tell."

"Mr. Olivander will be able to fix it properly. We can send it off to him in the morning by way of Owl Post."

"Thank you Professor."

Dumbledore raised a spidery hand and placed it lovingly on the top of Harry's head. "Not at all, my boy. It was your bravery and courage which won the day. James and Lily would be very very proud of you."

Harry nodded, the backs of his eyes suddenly burning. He refused to cry, not now, not here, not when it was _finally all over._ He raised a hand slowly and felt his forehead. The lightning bolt scar was still there. He had secretly hoped that it would vanish when Voldemort had died, but decided right then that he was glad it hadn't. As much as Harry Potter was teased for the mark, it reminded him that he'd once had a family that had loved him very much.

Suddenly, Harry found himself wrapped in Dumbledore's arms, the old man's frame shaking. Was he crying!

"I'm sorry, Harry," he said, and yes, there was sadness and anguish in his voice. Harry pushed himself away and stared up into the Headmaster's face with awe. Tears were running under the half-moon spectacles and into his white beard. "This has been my fault. If I had just been more attentive, T-Tom would... would n-never..."

Harry, confused and trying to keep his own tears at bay, grabbed his shaking hand and said, "It's not your fault, Professor. Tom Riddle just... he was the Dark sort."

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Harry. Tom was a clever boy, but he had the power to resist his darker side. His father, Marvolo Riddle, was only half human, the other half a demon but... Tom... Harry, can you forgive this blind old fool for killing your parents?"

Harry gasped, "What?"

"Not literally," Dumbledore said softly, raising his sleeves to wipe the tears off his face. "But if I had been more attentive, less lax in my duty, less distracted..." he raised his eyes to Ana, who lay deathly still, two beds away. "I don't know if you know Harry, if Sirius told you but... Ana and I used to be married."

Harry choked. "_WHAT?_" he cried, then immediately clapped his hands over his mouth. There was a tense moment as he waited to see whether or not the other occupants of the Hospital Wing would wake up. Tonks and Bill shifted in their sleep, but other than that, no one opened their eyes. "_What?_" he repeated again, softly.

Dumbledore smiled. "I met her in a Muggle train station, oh, right before the second World War. I was lost and carrying all my Quidditch gear and she had seen me, took me aside and said - I'll never forget those first words she said to me in that silver voice of hers - 'You're a right silly git, wandering around a Muggle section with a broom. Lost, Wand Waver?' Oh, Harry, I fell at love at once. Then the war came and we both fought. She hated coming into the Wizarding World because of the way she was treated, so she kept a flat in Muggle London. I did research all through the war, and together we destroyed Grindelwald. We kept it secret, how we did it - Ana hated it, hated the magic, hated the secrecy. When I was offered a position on the staff of Hogwarts I accepted, and Ana grew more distant. She refused to move to Hogsmeade or into the castle because she didn't want to be shunned. I was a selfish bastard. We were married by then but I... I was so busy bickering with her that... I never noticed Tom sliding away. And I should have. By the time I noticed it was too late, and Ana had divorced me. It's all my fault, Harry."

Harry shook his head.

"It's not your fault, Professor. Things happen, things we can't change. We have to accept them, and go on. If we don't, we learn to regret things, to hate ourselves, to get bitter."

Dumbledore looked at Harry, mildly stunned. "When did you get so smart?" he asked softly.

Harry patted Dumbledore's shoulder gently. "I've had a great teacher."

Dumbledore nodded and stood, moving to go. Harry put his wand down on the night stand.

"Professor," he called softly and Dumbledore turned back around.

"Yes?"

Harry gulped, sudden panic rising to the surface with a new thought. "Where's Sirius?"

Dumbledore's lips thinned into a line, his unhappiness clear. For a blinding panicked second, Harry feared the worst.

"Not again! No!" he hissed and Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, Sirius is quite alright, Harry," he rushed to assure the boy, and Harry nodded, unbelievably relieved.

"Does that mean I'll get to live with him now?"

Dumbledore looked at his folded hands for a moment, before coming back to the side of the bed to look into Harry's eyes. "Harry, there are some things that you need to talk to Sirius about... some very important things. If everything works out the way we want it to, then yes, I am certain that Sirius will take over as your legal guardian."

Harry frowned, "What do you mean, 'if everything works out'?"

Dumbledore's own lips turned downwards. "Harry, Sirius was arrested by the Aurors last night."

Harry sat there, dumbstruck.

_How? How_ could they have arrested when they had been _right there_, in the same room as Harry, _watching _Sirius fighting the Death Eaters along side them.

"He..." Harry stuttered, stumbling over the thought, wild panic blossoming in his chest. He reached out and grabbed a fist-full of Dumbledore's robes. "They didn't send him to Azkaban, did they?"

"No, Harry. He's being held in a cell at the Auror headquarters right now. He's okay."

"Thank God."

Dumbledore's frowned deepened. "Don't thank anyone yet - Fudge is pushing his trial up. He wants to make a big stink about catching Sirius Black. He's talking execution."

"That snivelling bastard! He wants the Ministry to look good. Like they haven't been fucking up for seventeen years! Like they actually did something worthwhile while it's been you and me with our butts on the line every single goddamned day--"

"Harry!" Dumbledore admonished the teenager. Harry quickly snapped his mouth shut.

"Sorry."

Dumbledore sighed and patted his head. Harry released his robes.

"We're working on it," Dumbledore said softly. "Sirius will have the best legal council in the country. I'll pull on every bit of influence I have. We'll have you to testify this time, Harry, and Ron and Hermione. And, we have a surprise witness, too."

Harry blinked. "Who?"

Dumbledore pointed to the far end of the Hospital Wing where a battered cage sat on a pedestal surrounded by very obvious protection charms, and three silent house elves. No one was getting to the cage without alerting everyone in the school.

Inside was a silver-pawed rat.

Harry gasped. "Pettigrew!"

Dumbledore nodded. "They're going to have an interesting time trying to charge Sirius with murder when his primary victim walks through the door."


	19. Visitation

Part Nineteen: "Visitation"

* * *

Harry had felt well enough to return to classes a few days after, and was gratified to see the extremely sour look on the faces of all the Slytherins - more than half of whom were now either parentless or wards of the state. More than one Death Eater had died, and those who hadn't had gone immediately to Azkaban.

Still ... Harry felt sorry for those students who had lost parents. He knew what it felt like. He was also surprised to learn that at least two of the Ravenclaw students and three of the Hufflepuffs had also had Death Eater siblings or parents.

Throughout the school there was a general mixed feeling of loss, mourning, anger, surprise, and over all of that, they euphoric joy of a long battle finally completed.

Every night there were toasts in the Great Hall and parties in the dorms... and weeping in the bathrooms.

Draco Malfoy was green around the gills, and two days after Hallowe'en was yanked from school by his mother. Rumour had it that he'd been transferred to Durmstrang.

Fine by Harry - he didn't want to have to see that stupid git's face any more, anyway.

He had been saying horrible things about the Malfoys and their questionable parentage since he'd woken up, but Hermione had put a stop to that the night before Draco had left the school for good. She had smacked Harry's arm in the Gryffindor common room and hissed, "Have a little respect, Harry! Draco's lost his father, forever. Lucius Malfoy may be given the Dementor's Kiss."

"He'd deserve it!" Harry shot back, but there was no venom in his voice.

Harry felt awful.

* * *

The next morning he'd stopped Malfoy outside of Potions.

"What do you want, Potter?" Draco had sneered. His eyes were red, and he looked like he hadn't slept at all the night before. His hair was uncombed and there were ink blotches on his fingertips. "Going to gloat some more?"

Harry shook his head, guilt twisting his stomach. "I just wanted to ... to say... sorry."

"Sorry?" Draco repeated, incredulous, eyes widening. "_Sorry_?"

"I'm sorry your Dad--"

"Don't you _dare_ talk about my Father, you _worthless Gryffindor!"_ Draco'd screeched. He slammed his books down and the loud thump they made had echoed through the corridors. "He may be in prison but he will not stay there. We are Malfoys and I will see you _dead_ for this humiliation, Potter! _Dead_!"

"_Draco_!" Snape had snarled from the doorway to the potions lab. "Kindly remove yourself to the Headmaster's office." Draco stared at him with unshed tears in his eyes, his voice raw and his face flushed. He stood defiant, unmoving. "_Now_."

"Yes, sir," Draco snarled and with one last withering glance at Harry, was gone, the word "_traitor_" a venom hiss in the air after him.

"I'm sorry, sir," Harry said softly, hanging his head.

"Three points from Gryffindor for causing a scene, Potter," Snape snipped as Harry walked past him into the classroom, but paused as he felt Snape's hand come down on his shoulder and squeeze once, reassuringly. "There's nothing you can do." The Potions's Master whispered to him hurriedly, and Harry nodded and rushed to take his seat.

It wasn't meant to be an assurance, but Harry took comfort in the cold words nonetheless.

No one saw Draco Malfoy at Hogwarts after that day.

* * *

On the third night after Hallowe'en, Albus Dumbledore interrupted dinner and stood to give a speech.

He explained to the students that the rumours that had been flying around the school - Lord Voldemort was indeed dead and almost all of the Death Eaters arrested and in Azkaban – were true. He offered his condolences to those students who had lost their siblings or parents, or whole families, and his congratulations to Harry for his difficult and trying role in the war.

He then recounted everything that Harry had ever done in the school, from his first year battle with Quirrell, to killing the Basilisk, to fighting Dementors and facing down Voldemort several times, to the plot against him during the Tri-Wizard tournament, and everything in between, all the way to Hallowe'en night when he put the Sword of Gryffindor into the Dark Lord's heart.

Dumbledore conveniently left out everything with Sirius Black - his trial date was coming up and they didn't want to look like they were trying to sway anyone by spreading rumours beforehand.

When Dumbledore finally sat down several hours later, Ron and Hermione beamed at Harry, clapping him on the back.

The Great Hall was filled with a heavy silence as all the students took the information in. Many of them had not known at all what Harry had been up to. They had thought he was just a troublemaker with a head for fame, as the Daily Prophet had claimed.

After a brief second of contemplation, the Gryffindors erupted into wild, elated applause and the rest of the Hall followed soon after.

Harry blushed and beamed, and then lay his head on the table and just cried, overwrought with emotions of gratitude, relief, and embarrassment. Neville gave him a huge hug.

When the students were silent again, Dumbledore also announced the unfortunate retirement of Potions Master Snape. The students were polite enough not to cheer at that. When Professor Lupin came into the Great Hall by way of the side door, leaning heavily on the arm of Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore announced that the new DADA teacher would be stepping down into the Potions position, and Remus Lupin would be returning to take over for DADA come January.

Then the students couldn't help but erupting into cheers.

Snape sank lower into his chair, arms folded over his chest, moping.

* * *

Saturday couldn't come fast enough for Harry.

With Lupin awake now, and all of the other injured people healed and sent home, Harry spent long evenings in the Hospital wing, doing his homework by Ana's side. Sometimes he passed the evening hours talking softly with Lupin or whichever of his friends chose to join him that night. Harry wanted to be there when Ana woke up, but no one was sure if that would be any time soon... if at all.

This was the first recorded instance of a Vampire having consumed Dragon's Blood and surviving.

When they were alone, Harry and Lupin spoke about James and Lily, and Sirius and Ana, and Grimmauld Place, and what the Marauders had been like, and their plans once Sirius was free.

Peter Pettigrew remained under constant vigil, but had been moved up to the Headmaster's Office when he had begun to display signs of lycanthropy.

Lupin didn't feel the least bit guilty.

When Lupin and Harry were joined by Ron and Hermione (who had finally gotten up the courage to hold hands in the hall), they spoke of the coming trail and poured over legal books.

When other students came to join Harry in his vigil, he patiently answered their questions about his deeds of 'derring-do' and the battle itself.

Most of the students knew by now that Ana was a Muggle who had cared for Harry over the summer and had helped in the 'Final Battle', as the Prophet had begun to call it, but not any other details.

Some of his conversations with other students leaked back to the Daily Prophet, but Harry didn't mind so much, as they had finally begun to quote him correctly, and not out of context. The press was finally telling some truth.

But for all the clandestine conversations that the Prophet's reporters were having with the Hogwarts students, there had yet to be anything in the papers straight from Harry's own mouth.

An oversight the staff of the Prophet, as well as several other major publications, were desperately trying to correct.

There wasn't a day when somebody wasn't banging on the door of Hogwarts, begging for an interview or a photograph of the Boy-Who-Defeated-You-Know-Who. Filch took delight in turning them all away as meanly as he could.

To put an end to all the hubbub, Harry agreed in the end to sit down to a _real_ interview next Sunday at the Three Broomsticks, as long as Rita Skeeter was _not_ the interviewer.

Harry intended to tell them _everything_ - about Peter being the betrayer, not Sirius, about his encounters with Voldemort, about the Order of the Phoenix (he'd gotten permission from the Members already, of course, and wouldn't have thought about it otherwise), and evil old Umbridge and Dumbledore's Army, and all of that.

No more secrets.

Before Sunday, however, came Saturday, and that's what Harry was really looking forward to. Arthur Weasley had called in some favours (although Harry thought the 'favours' had a lot to do with how big and mean Shacklebolt could look) and got Harry permission to visit Sirius for an afternoon in jail.

* * *

When Saturday came, Harry had been forced to leave his (still cello-taped) wand at the front desk, but he didn't mind. He was seeing Sirius again, and he was on cloud nine. He rushed as fast as he could down the hall, annoying the Auror who had been put in charge of Harry. Harry sort of wished that Lupin or his friends could be here to see Sirius, too, but was secretly glad that their first conversation together would be alone.

He rushed up to the bars of Sirius cell and wrapped his hands around them, relieved to see that he was still in his own (if slightly torn and dirty and stained) clothing, and not chained down or anything. There was no sign of any Dementors nearby, either, nor any extra special guards or charms. Sirius was being treated like any other normal prisoner, and that made Harry glad. It meant that they may not have it in for him entirely.

"Hallo, Sirius!" Harry called, and Sirius jumped. He'd been sitting on the rough cot, his back to the bars, staring up at the dim patch of sunlight that was shining through the bars of his window, but not sitting in it.

No one must have told Sirius that Harry was coming today, for he seemed startled, and that made Harry fume silently. How cruel! Unnecessarily cruel!

Sirius turned around and climbed to his feet, going over to hug Harry through the bars. The Auror placed a threatening hand on his wand, so Sirius withdrew and sat back down on the cot, looking at Harry. Harry sat on a stool provided to him on the other side of the bars.

"I didn't know you were coming," Sirius began, and Harry was slightly thrown off by the musical quality of his Godfather's voice. Sirius's voice had always been deep, but he couldn't remember if it had always been this smooth. "I've seen the Weaslys, though, and Shacklebolt and Tonks now and again."

"I'm sorry," Harry said empathically, and really meant it. "We asked them to tell you. Bastards. I'll be visiting every Saturday until your trial."

"When's that?"

Harry blinked. "Your trial?"

"Yeah."

"They didn't tell you?"

"No."

"Jerks," Harry spat. "December 19th."

"Ah."

Sirius said nothing else. Harry squirmed in the heavy silence. "Lupin is awake," he began by way of conversation, but Sirius only nodded, and didn't raise his eyes. "He's just fine," Harry pressed on. "A little sore, but fine. He's living at Hogwarts right now, and then in January he's taking over as the DADA professor again. Dumbledore's had a lot of howlers from parents, but I think they'll all agree that any Werewolf who's a member of the Order of the Phoenix can't be that bad. I mean, when they find out."

Sirius nodded again.

"So, yeah... the Prophet knows all about the Order. Fudge says that they're all going to be getting medals -you too, when we get you out of here - and... er... Ana's still out cold, though. Pomfrey thinks that she'll wake up in time for the trial. _Oh_! And we caught Pet..." he trailed off and looked at the Auror, "I mean, we caught Wormtail, too. That has to help, right?"

Sirius nodded and didn't look up.

Harry ceased his diatribe, and pulled his stool closer to the bars and said softly, "Sirius? Are you okay?"

Sirius shrugged. "I'm alright."

"No, you're not."

Sirius tried at a smile and failed. Instead, he shrugged again. "Just... you know... bars... _again_."

Harry bit his lip and wrapped his hands around the offending bars. "We'll get you out of here Sirius. We'll _make_ them see that you're innocent, and then you'll never have to be behind bars again. I promise."

Sirius nodded, still listless. Harry began to grow concerned.

"They're feeding you and everything, right?" he whispered. "I mean, no one's being all... _you know."_

Sirius shook his head. "No, I'm fine, Harry, really. Molly takes care of me." He pointed at a thick wooly sweater of bright yellow with a large black dog on the front, which lay in a crumpled pile on the cot. Trust Molly Weasley to knit Sirius Black a yellow woolly pullover.

"Okay," Harry conceded, but didn't believe it for a second. He knew Sirius got really bad nightmares every once and a while. He had heard Sirius screaming in the middle of the night over the summer weeks he'd spent at Grimmauld Place. It could be that. And he didn't put it past Fudge to try to starve Sirius Black to death before he came to trial.

There was another heavy pause, and Harry said, "I saved the Daily Prophet for you, every day since Hallowe'en. Here. Just so you don't get bored." He pulled the pile of newsprint out from under his cloak and slipped it thought the bars and set it down on the floor.

"Thanks."

Harry lent his forehead against the bars, not knowing what else to do. "Sirius, are you _really_ okay?"

Sirius finally looked up at his godson and Harry gasped when he saw how pale Sirius had become, and how silver his eyes shone. "I need to tell you something Harry... actually, a lot of somethings... and I don't know how to."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "It's okay, Sirius. You can tell me anything."

Sirius shook his head and covered his eyes with hand. "No, I can't. I feel horrible, Harry. I feel so _guilty_."

Harry pulled away from the bars, his eyebrows pulling down in the centre, his heart speeding up with panic. "This isn't... I mean, it's nothing about my parents or Voldemort, is it...?"

Sirius jumped to his feet. "Oh, god, no. _No,_ Harry, _never_. Nothing like that." He came forward and sat on the pile of newspapers and wrapped his hands around Harry's.

Harry smiled slowly. "Then everything's okay."

Sirius shook his head. "Everything's... _not_ okay."

"Sirius, you're scaring me."

Sirius took a deep breath and sighed loudly. "I'm going to tell you Harry - if they find out about this, and I'm certain they will at the trail, if they don't already know, they... they may not let me be your guardian."

"What can be so bad as that?" Harry asked, but his voice rising towards panic.

"Harry..." Sirius paused and met his Godson's eyes. "I'm a Vampire."

There was a pause as Harry's jaw dropped to the floor. _"...what did you say?"_

Sirius tried to withdraw his hands and Harry grabbed them, hard.

Sirius shook his head.

"What did you just say?" Harry demanded.

"I said... I'm a Vampire, Harry. I wasn't going to tell you, yet. I was going to wait until Christmas Holidays, but then all this Hallowe'en _shit_ happened and... Harry. I'm so sorry."

Harry shoved himself away and stood up, his back to Sirius, arms folded over his stomach, eyes clenched shut.

"Harry..."

"You didn't get better, did you?" Harry turned around with blazing wet eyes to meet his godfather's gaze. Sirius stood slowly. "_Answer me!_ You never got better - the letters you and Lupin sent me... they were a _lie_."

Sirius nodded slowly, wrapping his hands around the bars of his cell and leaning his forehead against one. "Yes, we lied to you Harry. I'm sorry. I didn't want you to worry about me."

"Worry about you?" Harry repeated, incredulous. "Sirius, you're _dead_."

"I _know_, Harry! ... I know." Sirius shook his head, and ran a hand through his filthy and tangled hair. "When Ana bit me, I was infected. The spells you did helped, but it was too late. I started to die, Harry. So... so I asked Ana to turn me."

_"Why!"_

**"_Because I didn_'_t want to leave you!_"** Sirius thundered and Harry took a startled step backwards. The Auror guard took a menacing step himself, drawing out his wand, but Harry put up a warding hand and he went back to his place holding up the wall reluctantly.

"I didn't want to leave you," Sirius said again, his voice soft and heart-broken. "You've been abandoned your whole life, your parents, your aunt, the people at school who were supposed to trust you... I wasn't going to be on that list, Harry. I wasn't going to leave you alone. Not again. _Never again_."

Harry nodded slowly, uncrossing his arms. He jammed his hands in his pockets and took along moment to digest this news. "So..." he said, starting to figure things out, "Ana's your Sire?"

"Yeah."

Harry chewed on that for a minute. Then he smiled a bit and returned to the stool.

"That mean you got to see her naked?"

Sirius stared at Harry for a moment, totally thrown off guard by the boy's audacity and playfulness.

Then he flashed his teeth. Now that he was looking for them, Harry could see the wicked sharp eyeteeth in the corner of Sirius' lips. "Yeah," Sirius leered, mentally scrambling to catch up. "She's a great kisser, too."

Harry nodded. "Thought so."

Sirius grinned, the first real grin Harry had seen yet, and reached into his pocket. "This is for you."

Harry took the small silver trinket and inspected it. It was a brooch, probably intended for a lady's cloak, shaped like a running deer-buck. Its eyes were shards of glowing ruby. "What's this?"

Sirius sighed again. "It's ... well, it was given by your mother to your Aunt Petunia on her wedding day."

"What? Why do you have it?"

Sirius smiled a weak smile. "I went to go have a... ahem... a 'talk' with your Aunt."

Harry's eyes widened, his mouth widening into a grin. "Oh, no! What happened?"

Sirius shrugged, "Surprisingly, not much. We talked a lot about you... what you were like as a kid, the kind of person you were now. Harry... I told her what was going to happen, and she... she told me to give you that. She wanted you to have it."

Harry stared down at the brooch, turning it in the dim light to make the rubies catch fire. "Aunt Petunia wanted me to have this?"

"Yeah." There was a paused. "Harry... I think you should write her a letter. Send it through the Muggle post, tell her you're okay. She... she's worried."

Harry nodded slowly, pinning the brooch to his cloak. "Maybe."

"Think about it."

"_Maybe." _

"Okay," Sirius accepted. They turned their conversation to other matters, some more important, some more trivial, until Harry's three hours were up. He went home promising to write Sirius and come see him again next week. He promised to bring Lupin then.

Once Harry was gone, Sirius resumed staring at the little window, with a slight smile on his face.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought, he'd finally get out of here.

For the first time in seventeen years, Sirius Black held hope in his heart.

_

* * *

Dear Aunt Petunia;_

_Please don't be started that I sent you this letter though Owl Post, and please do not show it to Uncle Vernon. It's Harry._

_I know you don't want to hear from me, ever, but... Sirius (that is, my godfather), said that you'd spoken with him these past few weeks about... me. And what was going to happen Hallowe'en night. I wanted to let you know that I'm okay. A few broken bones, but nothing more serious than that. We have charms to heal broken bones, so I'm just fine now._

_All of my friends and professors are alright, as well, and we Won. That's it. The man who killed my parents is dead and he's never coming back, not this time. I made sure of it. I won't go into detail. I can send you a copy of articles from The Daily Prophet, if you like._

_Sirius said you were asking after Ms. Oldwyn – she did some spectacularly brave things that night (or so I hear, I was unconscious by then), and because of one of them, she has fallen into some sort of a coma. No one knows how to wake her up out of it, but we're all pretty certain she will. She always has before._

_I... I wanted to thank you for the brooch. I wear it on my scarf when I go out to Quidditch Practices now. It reminds me a lot of my parents._

_This is really hard to say, so I'm going to try to say it properly:_

_Aunt Petunia, you and Uncle Vernon and Dudley were very good to take me in, but you treated me horribly and I hate you for it. I am NOT a Freak. I am NOT a deviant. I am NOT a bad person. You made me think I was worthless and pathetic and you HURT ME and I will NEVER NEVER forgive you for it. When this is all over, I will be moving in with my godfather and hopefully you and your 'normal' obsessed Muggle family will never ever have to see me again._

_That said, if you would like to try to talk some time, I think I would be willing. You can send a letter to me by way of Owl Post - Hedwig will wait for your response, if you'd like to give me one. If Hedwig comes back empty-clawed, I'll know where we stand and come retrieve my things at the end of the term and vanish from your life forever._

_You are my mother's sister, and the only real blood-kin I have, but you have hurt me very deeply and I am prepared to cut you out of my life entirely, if the need arises._

_As for Sirius... I don't know if you know, but he was falsely accused of murdering 13 Muggles and a man called Peter Pettigrew on the day after my parents died. Sirius goes to trial on the 19th of December, at the Ministry of Magic._

_IF you'd like to be there, I think both Sirius and I would appreciate it. Let me know and I can have the Knight Bus pick you up (although I'll warn you know to just sit down and hold on for dear life - Ern is quite the reckless driver!)_

_I... don't know what else to tell you._

_Oh – I got an owl today saying that I've been given advanced acceptance to the Auror Training Academy (that's sort of like the Police Force) once I've graduated from Hogwarts, as long as I keep my marks up for the rest of this year and get a good bunch of NEWTs in my senior year. I've also been talking to the chaps from a few of a the Professional Quidditch Leagues... I'm undecided._

_Your Nephew,_

_Harry._

Reply tied rather sloppily to Hedwig's leg:

_Harry:_

_Please have the Knight Bus pick me up on December 19th. Choose what makes you happiest._

–_Aunt Petunia_

* * *

Early Sunday afternoon, Harry Potter mounted his Firebolt and, with his stomach in his mouth, flew to the Three Broomsticks. Although the Daily Prophet had agreed to allow Ron, Hermione, and Professor Lupin to accompany him and participate in the interview, all three had declined his invitation. 

Harry had sputtered and ranted, angry and hurt and really very scared to go alone, until Hermione had laid a gentle hand on his arm and said, "Harry, it's you they want to read about. It's you that needs to tell the stories. You _need_ to tell the stories, Harry, for yourself."

Lupin had seconded Hermione, and Ron wisely kept his mouth shut. Outvoted, Harry put on his best pair of bluejeans and a nice green jacket over a dark burgundy polo shirt, threw on his formal school cloak, and was off.

The wind in his face was refreshing and Harry slowed down his broomstick to really enjoy the chill November air. Already November 8th, Harry mused to himself. Sirius' trial was just thirty-one days away. It felt nice to be able to fly like this - no Order members flying next to his tail, no opposing Seekers to dodge, to Dementors to swerve around or Death Eaters to look out for.

It felt nice to just fly... normally. To just be... normal.

Harry reached up and rubbed his forehead. Normal. _Right. _

Not only was he The-Boy-Who-Lived, but now he was also, The-Boy-Who-Destroyed-You-Know-Who. Ron sometimes called him The-Boy-With-Way-Too-Many-Descriptors-Attached-To-His-Name.

Hogsmeade came into view, and Harry put on a little burst of speed to whiz around the spires of the Shrieking Shack in playful circles before coming to a gentle landing outside of the Thee Broomsticks. Clutching his prized Firebolt close, Harry went inside, head swivelling to try to find someone who looked like a reporter.

Madam Rosemerta waved from behind the bar to get his attention and then pointed to a young man sitting alone in the corner furthest from the entrance. Harry supposed he didn't want his parchments to blow away with the draft from the constantly opening doors. Harry didn't mind it, as he'd welcome the privacy.

Harry made his way over, and Rosmerta met him there with a warm butterbeer and a smile. "On the house, deary," she said when he dug into his pockets for the change.

"No, no, I insist," Harry argued, but she would hear none of it. In the end, Harry gave up, thanked her, saluted her with the mug, and took a hearty sip. "Ahhhh, much better," he said, feeling the warm liquid melting his insides. He grinned at the young man across from him. "Bit nippy outside, eh?"

The young man, who had a soft mop of light brown hair and expressive dark eyes, and couldn't have been more than 22, smiled back. He looked slightly nervous. He was dressed in a very posh set of caramel coloured business robes which Harry guessed were Calvin Klein WizardWear, and a soft lavender shirt with a dark tie. On the bottom the tie was a little hinkypunk that grinned and winked at the viewer.

Harry wondered if the man had dressed in his best suit for Harry's benefit.

"Harry Potter," Harry prompted, sticking his hand out across the table. The young man took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Patrick Talon," the reported offered back and Harry tucked away the name for further reference. "I'm very pleased to meet you, sir."

Harry blinked. "Did you just 'sir' me?"

Talon nodded.

Harry blanched and took back his hand. "Please don't."

"But..."

"Please, don't. I'm just a kid!"

Talon paused, then nodded. "Okay, if you say so." He pulled out a lavender quill, which matched his dress shirt, licked the nib, and set it on its end on the parchment. It hovered, then began to scribble of its own volition as Talon said, "Right, now. I'm Patrick Talon of the Daily Prophet speaking with Harry Potter in the Three Broomsticks on November the Eighth."

"Do you mind?" Harry asked, and reached out to take the parchment that the QuickQuill was writing on. Talon gestured for him to go ahead and Harry read:

_Patrick Talon, reporter for the Daily Prophet, sits opposite the almost-legendary Harry Potter, over a pint of Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Potter, an amiable and pleasant sixteen year old, remarks as he sheds his school robes, "A bit nippy out, eh?" and chuckles as he sets aside his Firebolt broomstick._

Harry nodded and handed the parchment back to Talon, who set the QuickQuill back in place.

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Potter?"

"Just Harry's fine, and no, not with _your_ QuickQuill. Just wanted to make sure it wasn't as 'poetic' as Rita Skeeter's."

Talon laughed. "Don't worry - some of us actually have journalistic integrity."

"Good to hear."

Talon pulled out a small handful of cue cards and Harry could see that he'd already written down a few questions.

"Do you mind if we just start?" Talon asked, and Harry gestured for him to continue. Talon's eyes flicked from his cards to Harry's face, then at the broomstick leaning against the table, then back at Harry. He set down the cue cards and folded his hands over them on the table. "Mind if I ask you a personal question first?"

Harry smiled. "Ask, and we'll see if I answer."

Talon grinned ear-to-ear. "Is the Firebolt as awesome as I've heard?"

Harry laughed. " I love it! Way better than my old Nimbus Two Thousand."

"Was it a gift?"

Harry pondered the question, then decided to answer truthfully. If he was going to do his damnedest to get Sirius cleared, then no better place to start than here. "Yes, it was."

Talon frowned. "From who?" He flicked through a small notebook that he pulled from a different pocket. "If my research is correct, Harry, you live with a Muggle family? Where did they get the galleons for a boom like the Firebolt?"

Harry smiled thinly. "It was a gift from my godfather."

"Your godfather, your godfather," Talon repeated, eyes scanning the book. Then he paused, his mouth dropping open, and his eyes bulging wide. He looked up at Harry with horror so vivid it almost made Harry laugh. "But your godfather is _Sirius Black."_

"Yes, that's right."

"But...?"

Harry could see that the young man was very confused. "Sirius gave me the broom in the third year, after my Nimbus Two Thousand got smashed by the Whomping Willow. I was startled by the sight of a black dog on the Quidditch Pitch, thought it was a Grim, fell off my broom, and the wind carried it away. Sirius felt sorry for me, and bought me the Firebolt."

"This was shortly after Sirius escaped from Azkaban Prison?"

"Yes."

"So you knew Sirius?"

"Yes."

"While he was in Azkaban?"

"No - I met Sirius after he escaped. He came to the school and saved me from a Death Eater that was masquerading as a..." Harry hesitated. Truth here, or not? No, better save _that_ particular surprise for the trial. "... friend... at the school," Harry said.

Talon looked perplexed and Harry pressed on: "Sirius never went crazy in Azkaban because he had never committed any crime. When he learned that the Death Eater that had framed him for murder was at the school and trying to kill me, he escaped and came to help me."

"I...uh... Wha..." Talon stuttered. He shook his head, took a deep breath and said, "Harry, are you saying that your godfather Sirius Black did _not_ kill Peter Pettigrew and thirteen Muggles?"

"Yes."

Talon sat back in his chair and pressed one palm to his forehead, looking flabbergasted. Harry waited him out. Talon took a long pull from the glass at his hand, which by the cinnamon heart smell of it held a goodly amount of firewhisky, before coughing once and asking:

"So, you claim that Sirius Black is innocent."

"Yes."

"You know that he's in jail right now, awaiting trial?"

"Yes - I spent several hours visiting him yesterday."

"And you are aware of the circumstances in which he was caught? That he had arrived at Hogwarts with You-Know-Who on this past Hallowe'en Night and fought alongside He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, until he was arrested by the Aurors present?"

Harry shook his head. "That's wrong. Sirius has been an active member of the Order of the Phoenix since before my parents died. He was sent unjustly to Azkaban, framed for murder. The Order thought him guilty too, but when he escaped to save me three years ago, he found a way to prove it to Dumbledore, and me, and the other Members, that he in fact was innocent. They've kept him hidden these past three years and we've been working together for the side of the Light. The Headmaster knew that the Aurors called in for Hallowe'en would have arrested Sirius on sight no matter what he said, so we kept Sirius hidden until the fight had started. Sirius was fighting _with_ us."

Talon frowned at his note book. "Several Aurors agree, however, that he attacked and bit Lucius Malfoy."

Harry winced. "One of Voldemort's minions had the power to get into Sirius' mind, sort of like Imperio, and forced him to do it. That minion is dead now."

"Dorin," Talon read off his notebook. "Was that his name?"

Harry nodded.

"A Vampire, they say. The Aurors confirmed that among the Death Eaters were two spies for the Light, who had been taken captive earlier." His eyebrows shot upwards as he looked at Harry. "Two Dark Creatures?"

Harry shook his head again, snorting. "Remus and Ana are not _dark_," he corrected. "They are not _human_ but they are not _evil_."

Talon pursed his lips. "Harry Potter doesn't judge anyone, does he?"

Harry frowned. "Harry Potter lives with Muggles who call him a _worthless freak_. I know what it's like to be judged by people who don't bother to learn the facts before pointing fingers and calling names. The Wizarding community talks about how Werewolves cannot be helped, are mad creatures who kill on their wolf nights. Did anyone bother to find a way to help them retain their human minds during the full moon? No! Why? Because they're _monsters_ and not _people_." Talon opened his mouth to say something but Harry cut him off. "It's bull! I'll tell you, I know a way - a Vampire has the power to reach into the mind of the werewolf and pull forward his human consciousness. The wolf doesn't _have_ to be Mad. How do I know? Two of my most trusted mates are a Werewolf and a Vampire. As for Vampires, yes, some are evil killers, but there are just as many humans who are the same way. Ana is a good friend and she cares about me. I trust her with my life."

"Even though she bit you."

Harry pulled down his shirt to show the young man the scar on his neck. "Yeah, she bit me. Yeah. But Dorin made her do it – she's never hurt a human willingly, _ever_. And I'm fine now."

Talon closed his mouth. He cleared his throat. "Okay. um... so," clearly he wanted to comment on what Harry had just said, but wasn't quite sure how to do it. He opted with changing the subject instead. "Harry, you said you live with Muggles who call you a..." he double checked what the QuickQuill had written down. " 'worthless freak'? Care to tell us about that?"

Harry shrugged and pulled his collar back up, settling it in place. "My mother was a Muggle born. Her sister and his husband and son don't have or like magic. They were very mean to me growing up and did what they could to quash my natural abilities. I'm not sad to say that once Sirius' trial is over, I fully plan on moving in with him, as he will resume being my Guardian."

Talon sat back and took another sip of his firewhisky. "You say that as if you assume Sirius will be proven innocent."

Harry's green eyes glittered fervently. "I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure of it."

* * *

The next day the whole school had Daily Prophets dropped in their laps by a fleet of Delivery Owls at breakfast. At lunch Harry had to endure a round of autographing picture upon picture of himself in the Prophet sipping butterbeer. At Dinner he was toasted by the Gryffindor Prefect, and the whole school joined in.

In the evening, Harry sat with Remus Lupin at Ana's side, willing her to wake up and discussing how the article may change the way Sirius' trial would be handled, if any. Hopefully, it may even persuade people to start to be at least a little more accepting of so-called Dark Creatures.

If Harry Potter said so, Dark Creatures had to be okay. If Harry Potter said so, the sky would rain galleons, according to some people.

By nightfall the day of the publication, Remus had already received and replied to one letter from a mother from the half-muggle town of Whiltshire. Her little girl had been attacked by a werewolf on the full moon previous. She had been considering having her daughter 'put down', but when she had read Harry's adamant words in the Prophet, she had thought better and instead written to Remus to request a meeting with him.

Remus had said that he would be glad to meet with the woman to discuss the future of her daughter. They were going to meet in the Three Broomsticks for tea in two days, on Wednesday. The little girl would be in attendance.

Both hoped that Ana would wake up before then - she would be a big help.

Around midnight Filch came and shrieked at Harry for being out of bed so late, and Remus walked him back to his dormitory.

"G'night," Harry yawned, and Remus patted him on the head, briefly.

Remus padded back to the Hospital wing silently, nodding to Sir Nicholas as they crossed paths on the grand stairway. Remus had been given his own office and rooms in the school already, of course, but he spent most nights sleeping in the hospital bed next to Ana.

Her scent was comforting to him, as when he slept he was often visited by nightmares of his time in the low-ceilinged cage in the decrepit parlour of the Riddle House. Her presence helped to ease those nightmares, and he liked to be near her at all times. He also wanted to be there if Ana were to suddenly awaken, and he therefore took most of his meals alone with her in the Hospital wing, and had been doing nothing more stressful than catching up on his Dark Arts journal back-issues since Hallowe'en.

Remus pushed back the heavy wooden doors to the Hospital room, slipped inside, and gently closed them behind him. He walked over to Ana's bed and took a seat on the bed next to it, putting up his feet and glancing over to see if Ana had moved.

The bed was empty.

Remus leapt to his feet. He whipped his head around, nose twitching and eyes narrowing as he sought her out in the deep shadowed darkness of the long room.

_There._

She was standing by one of the long, high windows in the wall opposite, her face raised to the sky and the blankets from her wrapped tightly around her body. She looked like a cinema Vampire in the pale moon light, clad in flowing white. Remus reminded himself that she _was_ a Vampire, she just preferred tank tops and yoga pants.

"Ana?" he said softly and slowly the Vampire turned to look at him.

"Remus?" Her voice was just a breath in the still air.

"Yeah," he said and walked slowly towards her. Her dazzling blue eyes were open wide, but her gaze seemed lost, her pupils mere pinpricks. "Ana, are you okay?"

"Yes..." she whispered, her face twisting in puzzlement, as if she wasn't sure if she was lying or not. "Harry?"

"He's fine."

"Sirius?"

"Him too. Dumbledore's okay. Everyone's fine."

"I'm glad." She shivered once. Remus reached out and swept her into his embrace and into a fierce hug. "Oh, god, I'm so glad."

Ana rested her forehead against his shoulder and said nothing. Her shivering grew worse and Remus leaned back to look at her drawn face. "You don't look well."

"I feel... hollow..." she admitted.

Remus swept her up into his arms and carried her back to the bed. "You're cold," he said, deciding against calling for Madam Pomfrey. He could look after her himself. "And you haven't fed properly in weeks."

"Hungry," she admitted as she allowed him to tuck her back into bed.

Remus hesitated for a second, and then slid under the covers beside her and wrapped his arms around her and let her lay back against his shoulder. From his boot he pulled a small dagger. He had been carrying it since the moment he'd woken up from Hallowe'en, just in case. He hadn't intended it for this use, but was glad he had it all the same.

"I'll warm you up," he said softly, holding out his wrist.

Ana went, if possible, whiter at the appearance of the dagger. "Remus?" she asked, and her voice was so small and scared that it cut him.

"I won't hurt you, I promise," he said gently into her ear. He ran the tip of the dagger along the underside of his hand, not directly over the veins, and set it aside as the blood started to well up. "It's the least I can do, after what you've done for me. Just be gentle," he said softly.

Ana closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the wound, lights as a lover's kiss.

As her skin touched his, Remus was shot through with the old 'want you!' jolt of his inner beast's possessiveness. Instead of acting on his exhaustive desires, he buried his face in her hair and wept softly. His tears were tears of pleasure, for just holding her brought him great joy, and relief.

She was awake. She was going to be alright.

They had been each other's rocks at the Riddle House. The would continue to be there for each other, whatever came.

Something thin and brittle broke inside Remus and all the pain, all the terror, all the guilt he had been feeling – all the feelings he had been desperately trying _not_ to feel - poured out of him.

He clung to Ana and sobbed, and she drew the blood from the small wound on his wrist without saying a word.

* * *

When Madam Pomfrey came in the next morning, she refrained from waking the two. Remus Lupin hadn't had a solid night's rest in over a week, and Pomfrey found him wrapped around Ana Oldwyn, her face nuzzled against his chin, his arms around her shoulders and their legs tangled under the sheets. She realized that Ana had awakened from her coma some time in the night, and that Remus and she had fallen asleep holding each other.

There were tell-tale signs of dried tears on Lupin's cheeks, and a bit of dried blood on Ana's chin and spotting the pristine white sheets. Poppy could see that Remus' wrist was bandaged up and noticed the spare gauze roll sitting on the night table.

"Good boy," she said to herself and bustled about, generally tidying up and staying quiet to left the two Dark Creatures to their rest.

* * *

Remus Lupin was fond of hot showers.

He liked being warm, loved the heat. It made the ache in his bones and joints go away for a brief time. Remus always wondered if he liked being warm so much because it reminded him of being on the inside of his custom-made fur coat – the one he wore once a month.

He liked hot baths too, but he often fell asleep in them. He would shower to wash away all the grime, and then fill the tub and just soak. Eventually he got into the habit of tucking a rolled towel behind his neck to keep him above water... just in case. Remus liked doing this most the morning after a full moon. There was a time when Sirius or James or Peter would help him stand upright under the hot spray, when he was younger and the transformations really took the mickey out of him.

Around their fifth year at Hogwarts, the other Mauraders stopped helping Remus stumble under the hot water in the mornings, but one or another of them would always be standing outside of the shower, just in case he slipped or got dizzy or passed out.

Remus also liked wrapping himself up in a nest of blankets after his bath, warm and dry and clean. When he been by himself, after Sirius was arrested and he thought both James and Peter to be dead, he lived alone in a small, shabby, Muggle flat. Remus would always do his laundry the day of the full moon, no matter how much pain he was in - that way he would have clean sheets the next morning to bed down in and sleep the next few days away.

Remus sighed and shifted slightly, content, half-awake yet determidly keeping his eyes closed. A little spot of warmth was curled into his arms, the sensation and texture of thick woollen blankets and clean white sheets tucked around his body like a hot cocoon.

_It must be the morning after a full moon,_ he mused to himself. _I'm so relaxed._

He sniffed once, nuzzling into the spot of warmth in his arms, and was startled all the way awake when the spot of warmth nuzzled back.

"Morning," the female voice croaked sleepily, and Remus dared to slit one blue eye at the pale woman in his arms.

Ana Oldwyn grinned back at him, her smile languid and her eyelids half closed. He realized the mini-furnace he was holding was her lithe body, and felt a surge of protectiveness crest and ebb - she was hot because it was his blood in her veins keeping her so.

_His_ blood.

"Sleep well?" she asked.

Remus nodded slowly, feeling a smile tug at the corner of his own lips. "Best in a while. What time it?"

Ana looked over his shoulder briefly before flicking her gaze back to him and burrowing herself further into his arms. "Around ten in the morning, I'd guess, by the light on the wall. Bastards stole my watch."

Remus nodded again and closed his eyes, burying his nose in her hair and shamelessly stoking his large, fine-fingered hands up and down her back. Ana didn't protest, and he was certainly loath to give up some good snuggling time. "Lets just lie here for a bit. I don't have to be in Hogsmeade for another few hours."

* * *

The weather had indeed gotten chillier since Harry's visit to the nearby Wizarding village. Whereas Harry had only needed long sleeves and his heavy cloak, Remus Lupin wrapped himself in a heavy sweater, a scarf, his heaviest cloak, and good pair of gloves - all of which, save for the patched cloak, were on loan from various Gryffindor boys.

Remus had tapped politely on the common-room door and found a few of the upper years there, dropping off their books before lunch. Neville had lent him a large purple-red pullover, too big for the boy but big enough for Remus. Harry had supplied his thin, but warm Quidditch gloves. The long yellow and red scarf was Ron's uniform one, and the boy threatened to come after Remus with silver if he lost it.

Ana had borrowed another of Ginny's nice weekend robes (a pretty and thick green one that made Ginny's hair and eyes stand out, but sort of washed Ana out,) a low-slung black belt, and one of Padma Patil's extra black cloaks. Ana was, after all, a Vampire, and the heat and cold didn't effect her quite so much.

It felt weird to Ana to be wearing robes - she had never much been one for skirts, but it seemed that all witches preferred long ground-skimming dresses with simple and elegant lines - high collars and tight sleeves that ended in a bell were apparently all the rage this year, but Ana longed desperately for a pair of army boots, some jeans, and a nice dark sweater.

Thus attired, Remus and Ana began their walk towards the village, Ana holding a dark parasol (borrowed from Prof. Flitwick) over her head to ward off the clear November sunshine. She glanced over at Remus as they walked and frowned slightly.

"Your hair _has_ gotten lighter."

Remus, whose eyes had been on his boots and his hands stuffed into his pockets, peeked his nose out from behind the borrowed scarf long enough to say, "What?"

"I thought your hair seemed lighter this morning, but I wasn't sure."

Remus sighed and reached up to scratch behind his ear briefly. "Yeah - part of being a Werewolf, I guess. Madam Pomfrey says it is probably the trauma of my body re-shaping itself. I'll probably be all white by next year."

"I think it's kind of dignified," Ana teased, eyes sparkling. "I like Sirius' streaks, too." She touched one of her temples and traced her finger back through her hair to illustrate where Sirius' heavy chunks of silver had begun to show up. Of course, now that he was a Vampire, his hair had stopped going white, and the change had lent his skin an air of youthful glow - he could easily shave his beard and dye his hair darker and suddenly erase twenty years from his appearance.

"From what I hear, you like men with white hair." Remus nudged her arm with his elbow. "You and _Dumbledore,_ Ana?"

"You knew about it."

"Yeah, but you never said that you were _married_."

"It was none of your business. Besides, it didn't really end well - I mean, we parted on good terms but it made me angry that we had to part at all. _And_ his hair wasn't white, then."

"Oh?"

"It was the prettiest red you ever saw - redder than the Weasley's. Dark red."

Remus 'a-hmmmed' and resumed looking at the ground. He enjoyed the easy and playful banter that Ana was fond of.

It made him feel..._normal_.


	20. I Dunno

Part Twenty: "I Dunno"

* * *

By the time Remus and Ana reached Hogsmeade, a heavy cloud had come to blot out the sun. Ana professed that it wasn't her doing, although she folded way the parasol happily. Just outside of the Three Broomsticks, large poufy snowflakes began to float down, sprinkling their hair and shoulders.

They brushed them off as she pushed back the heavy doors to the bar, and Remus stuck out his nose and sniffed - yes, there was definitely another Werewolf in here, but like the letter said, just a cub.

They paused briefly at the bar for a shot of gut-warming firewhisky for him and a wink at Madam Rosmerta and a glass of iced tea that would never be drunk for Ana.

The mother was sitting at a table, her daughter occupied with what appeared to be crayons and the back of some of Rosmerta's menus. The woman was probably in her early thirties, handsome and well dressed, but not snobbish or wealthy. Deep lines between her eyebrows and the corners of her lips told Ana that she'd been frowning a lot these past few weeks, and there were dark bruises under her eyes, too.

Her straw-coloured hair was escaping the elegant and simple knot at the back of her neck, and it looked like the woman hadn't even attempted to put on makeup.

The child was dressed in a simple pink robe, with a yellow belt. Her blonde hair was a tangle, as if her mother had been afraid to touch her to brush it out, and secured with a ribbon at the nape of her neck as well. She couldn't have been more than four or five, and it made Ana's gut twist.

Remus had shown her the letter, when they had finally deigned to crawl out of bed that morning, and she had agreed to accompany him to the meeting. But, she didn't expect the child to be so _young_.

Remus approached them and the woman jumped slightly as he spoke, his voice a low and soothing tenor, "Hello - I'm Remus Lupin."

She took his hand tentatively, as if afraid he would turn wolf and snap at her the second her skin touched his. He waited her out patiently, and didn't look offended when she hauled her hand back quickly and dropped it into her lap.

The little girl was growling slightly at her crayons, her voice low and puppy-like. Ana was sure only Remus and she could hear the humming nonsense words the girl was yipping. Like a new baby discovering his vocal chords, the Werewolf pup was playing with the sub-human hearing sounds she could make.

The mother's eyes turned to Ana, and she nodded to the lady politely. "I'm Ana, a friend of Remus'. I'm glad you decided to meet him, and I hope you don't mind if I tagged along. I'm used to dealing with Werewolves."

The mother shuddered once at the word 'Werewolf', but gestured for them to take a seat. "I'm Martha Little, and this is my d-daughter, Emma."

Ana pretended to ignore her verbal stumble and instead held out the glass of iced tea in her hand towards the little girl. "Here, honey, I got this for you. Would you like to come to this table over here and show me what you're drawing as your Mom and Mr. Lupin talk?"

The little girl looked up, narrowed her eyes and wiggled her nose at the iced tea, and then accepted it. She let Ana gather up her crayons and papers and move it two tables over. The little girl stood and looked pointedly at Remus. Her nose wiggled again and she said, "You smell."

"Emma!" Martha cried, horrified, and tried to grab the girl's hand. Emma bared her teeth at her mother and the older woman shrank back.

Ana knelt and looked Emma in the eye. "We don't bare our fangs at people – it's not polite." Emma tried to snarl at Ana too, but the minute her eyes met the powerful Vampire's, she raised her chin in submission and whined. "Forgiven," Ana said and tapped the young girl's neck gently, right over the jugular in a motion that echoed that of a wolf nuzzling its cub. "Now, apologize to your mother."

Emma looked contrite as she turned back to Martha and said, softly, "Sorry Mommy. I won't growl."

Ana gestured to the mother behind Emma's back, making it clear that she too was to tap Emma's neck and say, "Forgiven," which she did with great hesitation.

"Get on over to that table and drink your Iced Tea," Ana said softly to the child, "I'll be right there."

Emma's eyes darted between Remus, Ana, and her mother. Her little nose wiggled again and she said, "He still smells. You smell." Then she turned on her heel and ran to the table to avoid being punished again.

"I'm so, so sorry," Martha began and Remus waved her into silence.

"I'm not offended. Emma didn't mean it as an insult. She just meant that she could tell that I was different because I don't smell like a human." Martha's eyebrows drew down in a puzzled from and he added, "Werewolves have very acute senses, and that includes smell. And humans smell very different from anything else."

Martha nodded, seeming to take this in, then asked, hesitantly, "Beg pardon, Ms. Ana, but... how did you do that?"

Ana shrugged. "Wolves are pack animals. As much as Emma is still your daughter, she is now also a wolf - she regards the world as wolves do, and understands it the same way. In pack hierarchy, you as the Alpha Female may command her, love her, take care of her... but you may not show weakness. She knows that you will shrink from her, are scared of her - she's using it. If you let yourself be scared of her, then she'll run all over you, have no respect for your authority. You just have to learn the right way to communicate with her, that's all."

"Is this the same for you, Mr. Lupin?"

Remus shrugged, taking a quick sip of his firewhisky. "I was a few years older when I was bitten, so I had less trouble integrating back into human society. There are things that I interpret differently, gestures my friends have learned to or not to make around me, and you will learn them, too."

Martha hunger her head. "I... I don't know... I can't..."

"You don't think you're strong enough," Ana said pointedly, and Remus' eyebrows galloped upwards at her brashness. Martha shook her head. "Well, lemmie tell you something. People aren't strong because they can be. They're strong because they _have_ to be. Do you understand? You think Harry Potter asked for what happened to him? Do you think Remus asked for what happened to him? No - but it happened and the learned to cope, and you will, too."

Martha's eyes flashed in anger. "And how would you know? What have you suffered that makes you the expert!"

Ana shrugged, "Lady, I was raped, slaughtered, revived, abandoned, and hunted. Trust me... you're never strong because you _wanna_ be. You're strong because you _halfta_ be."

"Ana..." Remus said softly, eyes on Martha, who was looking dumbstruck at Ana's casual listing of her personal tragedies. "I'm sure Mrs. Little has some questions she'd like to ask me..."

Ana smiled slightly. "Sure, sure. 'Get Lost', no problem." She nodded briefly to Martha, who barely blinked back, and went to join young Emma. The girl had finished her Iced Tea by then, and had been watching the adults 'talk'.

"Hey, Emma," Ana said softly as she sat beside the young child. She patted her head and Emma turned her eyes to Ana's. The child's eyes were a soft honey colour - probably used to be hazel, but the transformation had made them brighter, clearer, more beastial.

"Hi."

"You gotta hairbrush around somewhere?" Ana asked, looking at the child's tangles. Her mother was probably too scared of the girl turning on her and biting her to brush her hair. The child shook her head, but Madam Rosmerta had heard Ana ask and walked over and set down a comb. "Thanks," Ana called over her shoulder as the bartender returned to her station, and promptly situated the young girl in her lap where she could work on her tangles. "Emma, how old are you?"

Emma held up four chubby digits.

"Emma, do you wanna show me where the wolf bit you?"

The little girl hesitated and Ana pinched a little of the skin on the back of her neck gently, like a mother wolf scruffing a pup. She immediately whined, waited for Ana's "Forgiven" and neck tap, then lifted up the hem of her skirt.

The little girl's left leg was a mess of white ridges. It must have been horribly mutilated - if she hadn't turned, she probably would have died of blood loss.

"I bet it hurt, eh?" Ana asked softly as she worked the comb through the knots. The child nodded slowly. "Where did the wolf get you?"

Emma sniffled once and began to suck on a finger. "I was playin' in the grass outside."

"In the garden?"

The child nodded again. "Mom was outside, and Luke too."

"Luke's your brother?"

A nod. "Mom 'n Dad went inside and Luke stayed and then there was a growl and then a wolf came."

"And it hurt you?"

A nod.

"And Luke?"

"Okay."

"That's good to hear. Did they catch the wolf?"

"Yeah - Daddy got it."

"I see," Ana said, and deduced that the father probably came outside to defend his children, wand swinging. Her Werewolf sire was probably dead. "And do you understand what's happened to you?"

The girl turned in Ana's lap to look up in her face. "I'm a'aminal now."

Ana gasped. "An animal?"

"Yeah - Dad says I gots to go away, now." She sniffled harder, eyes getting wet, "But, I don' wanna! I won't even growl no more."

Ana closed her eyes briefly and hugged the child close. "No one will hurt you, kiddo. Don't worry. You're not an animal. You're still a human being, a person. You're okay. Only, you could hurt people, a lot, if you bite them or scratch them. Do you understand that?"

The little girl sniffled wetly but said nothing. Ana pulled her away from her chest to force the girl's eyes to meet her own. "Emma? Do you understand me? You must never bite or scratch anyone, even if they scare you, or make you angry, or hurt you. Do you understand?"

The child, gaze trapped by Ana's gentle application of pressure on her willpower, nodded mechanically.

"And you will be a good girl, yes?"

"Yes..."

"Good girl," Ana hugged the child close once more, letting her sniffles and little broken whines continue. Ana held the shivering pup close for what seemed like an age, but couldn't have been more that half an hour.

After a while, Remus tapped her shoulder gently and Ana looked up.

"Time to go," he said and she nodded, lifting Emma up and placing her in her mother's arms. Martha Little looked infinitely more relieved and relaxed. "It has been a pleasure talking with you, Mrs. Little. Like I said, I'll be teaching at Hogwarts come the New Year, so please feel free to visit or owl me."

"I will, thank you," she said, and sounded like she really meant it.

The next day, Ana managed to make her way to London via (god-damned!) Floo, and went to visit her Son.

* * *

"Hey," Ana said softly, sitting on the stool. She motioned for the Auror guard to bug off, and he walked down the hall a bit to get out of hearing range.

"Hey," Sirius replied, his back to her, his eyes on the window and his ankles crossed in a lazy lotus position on the sagging cot. "You're awake."

"Yup."

There was a pause. Ana fiddled with the hem of Ginny's robe.

"You... smell like Remus."

"Huh? No I... oh... yeah... Remus had a bit of trouble getting to sleep, so we shared a bed."

"I see."

Another pause, this one definitely more awkward.

"Sirius, maybe we need to talk. You know, Remus and I aren't--"

"How's Harry?"

Ana blinked, taken aback that he cut her off.

"...uh. Fine. He started his occulmency lessons up again with Severus. Wanted to learn how to suppress the nightmares. They've been bothering him. I mean, I guess it's expected after all that. I feel sorry for him. But he's improving already... you'll be happy to hear this - Snape's retiring."

"Oh?"

"As of Christmas."

"That's good... who's taking over?"

"Professor Tincture."

"Who?"

"The old DADA teacher."

"So who's teaching DADA?"

"Remus."

"Oh? That's good."

Pause.

"Sirius--"

"How's everyone else?"

"Fine, Sirius! Would you quit changing the subject!"

He took a deep breath and sighed.

After a long moment, so did she.

"I'm sorry, Sirius. Listen, I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have come. Obviously you don't want to see me."

Suddenly Sirius was at the bars, on his knees, his hands wrapped around the metal and his forehead resting against the cool steel. "Don't go."

Ana knelt as well, and placed her hands over his, her own forehead resting against his. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, oh, god, Ana, I miss you. Don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere, not right now."

Sirius tilted his chin forward and brazenly pressed his lips against hers. Ana pushed back, opening her mouth slightly to allow the tip of his tongue to flick between her teeth, to scrape gently against her retracted yet still sharp fangs. The skin split and she sucked his tongue into her mouth, sliding her own tongue against his, tasting his blood, kissing gently.

The guard cleared his throat and 'accidentally' banged his wand against the metal bars of the empty cell three doors over and Ana broke away to glower at him. She and Sirius went back to pressing their foreheads together, talking softly.

"Have they filled you in?"

"On the trial and everything? Yeah, Remus and I walked to Hogsmeade today, and he told me."

"You... walked to Hogsmeade. ... Why?"

"Did you get a copy of Harry's interview in the Prophet?"

"Yeah, the guards give me the Prophet everyday. Bad joke you know - they think it's right funny. Ask me if I want to do the crossword."

"Groan."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And...?"

"Did you read Harry's interview?

"... yeah, I did. Boy's got balls. Just like his Mom, that way."

"Lily Potter had balls?"

"Oh, yeah. Guts, too. And a wicked Charms arm."

"I bet you were on the receiving end a lot."

"Yeah. So what about Harry's interview?"

"Oh, a lady read it. Her daughter - Christ, Sirius, her leg was mangled. She was like, four. Makes me sick. If her Dad hadn't offed the Werewolf that got her, I sure as hell would have tracked the bastard down myself."

"And heaven help him. I assume she read Harry's interview?"

"Yeah."

"Ah."

Pause, but this time filled with warmth.

"So, who's my lawyer?"

Ana shrugged. "I think Albus was looking into that. I don't know."

"That creeps me out. To the end of my days he will be 'Headmaster', and geeze... you fucked him!"

"Sirius!" Ana cried, appalled by his crudeness.

"What?"

"Oh, you're awful."

He chuckled lightly. "So they say. Evil, even. Ana..." The momentary lightness of mood evaporated. "They still have Wormtail, right?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna have a little 'talk' with him later."

"Good... Ana?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think... I mean... I could just... I could just do the bat thing with you, and you know... _go._"

"I think this place is charmed. Besides, Sirius, are you sure you--"

"No, I mean, yes, I want to stay. I'm sick of running, Ana. I'm so tired. But... I dunno... do you think that... I dunno... I... I..."

"Have a chance?"

"... yeah."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think you do. Between me, and Harry, and Wormtail, and the Order - I mean, Sirius, they gave them all medals while I was in slumberland, you know that, eh? And Fudge had one for me, too. Order of Merlin. I got the bloody Order of Merlin... and there's one waiting for you. And the whole Order of the Phoenix is going to be at the trial to speak for you. Dumbledore and MacGonnegal, Moody, Tonks, Shaklebolt, all the Weasleys, and Snape, even. So many well-respected wizards and witches, all of them speaking for you."

"But... but what if... what if I don't?"

Ana smiled briefly. "Then we turn into bats and fly over everyone's heads and move to Canada."

"Canada? Isn't that ungodly cold?"

"Yeah - but they have six-month long nights in Alert."

"Followed by six-month long days."

"We can move to Toronto for the summers."

"And do what?"

"I dunno ... go to the theatre? Hit some goth clubs?"

Sirius laughed, low and soft. "Yeah... I think I'd like that. And Remus?"

"He's got a job at Hogwarts. Maybe he could transfer to L'Ecole Petit Emaraude. He'd enjoy the forests, lots of room to run."

"And Harry?"

"He could live with us in Toronto."

"He'd want to finish at Hogwarts."

"After Hogwarts then."

Sirius closed his eyes slowly and sighed again. "But you and I... we'd be together?"

Ana paused and licked her lips. "Define 'together'."

He looked up at her, silver meeting nail blue. "You know what I mean, Ana."

"I... I don't know yet, Sirius. I don't."

"What do you mean you don't?"

"I just don't! Okay - this has all been a little weird. Voldemort, Harry, Albus again all of a sudden, you... Remus. I dunno. I just dunno."

"Ana..."

"Sirius, I can't give you a straight answer. I don't know what I want. I want you both. I care for you both. I am friends with you both and I don't want to ruin that."

He reached out and brushed his fingers against her cheek. Ana closed her eyes and leaned into the touch.

"I hope you make up your mind soon."

"Believe me, Sirius. I do, too."

* * *

When her time was up, Ana shoved her hands in her pockets and walked back down the hall, past the Auror guard and into the main foyer of the building. She slipped past the security desk and headed towards the door. Luckily it was an overcast day, the snow falling in fat flakes, so it made it easier for her to go outside. There were only a few hours left until sunset.

Perhaps she'd head off and find someone to eat, then switch to her bat form and fly back to Hogwarts. It was all the way in Scotland and it would take her two nights at most, but she really felt that she needed the exercise. What to do with her clothing would be a problem, but she didn't mind not having it for two days. She could just get some more in Hogsmeade.

"'Ey!" a young man's voice called out, breaking Ana out of her plans. "'Ey, Miss. Fancy yer wand back?"

Ana turned to look at the speaker. He was nineteen at most, his eyes wet and his face pockmarked. He was wearing the green uniform of an Auror in training and was standing behind the security desk, looking at her anxiously.

"Didn't bring my wand," Ana replied and turned to leave.

"Didn't bring yer wand?" she heard the young man repeat, aghast. "Wot sorta witch don't bring 'er wand places?"

"She's not a witch," another voice cut in, this time a young woman.

Ana stiffened and turned back to the desk to see a dark-haired young lady leaning against it, also in the Auror-in-training uniform. Geeze, was nothing a secret in the Wizarding world? This is why Ana preferred a Muggle lifestyle. Even though there was the possibility of nosey neighbours, they were easily thrown off the scent.

"I'm not?" Ana asked softly, and walked back to stand with them around the large curved desk. Better to not have this conversation shouted across the main foyer of the Auror headquarters. "I must be dreadfully lost, then, a Muggle in the Aurors HQ."

The girl narrowed her roan eyes at Ana. "You're that Muggle Vampire, that's what you are."

Ana narrowed her own eyes in return. "Is that a fact, Miss," she looked at the girl's name tag. "Safa Farag."

Safa stiffened. "It is. Who else would be visiting Sirius Black?"

The young man's eyes dark back and forth between Ana and Safa.

"What makes you think I was visiting Black?"

Safa gestured with a hand towards the doors through which Ana had emerged. "He's the only one down that corridor. They're keeping him separate. I've read the Harry Potter interview. You're the only woman I don't recognize that's gone down that corridor to visit him."

Ana smiled slightly, resting her elbow on the top of the desk, intrigued. "Okay, you've piqued my interest. Care to explain how that makes me a Vampire? A Muggle one, at that?"

Safa grinned in return, her velvet eyes sparkling. She was enjoying this intellectual game. "Well, the only people authorized to visit with Black are the Order of the Phoenix and his Legal Defence. His Legal Defence would have brought his wand, and would have left his card at the desk. He also would have a briefcase."

"What if Black's legal defence was a she?"

"Same."

"So this makes me a member of the Order, then?"

"Of course! But you aren't Molly Weasley, you're not Officer Tonks, and you're certainly not old enough to be Arabella Figg."

"Maybe I'm another woman. What if I'm Sirius Black's clandestine lover?"

Safa shook her head. The young man had gone back to monitoring the prisoners and was ignoring them. Evidently, Miss Farag did this a lot.

"There are only four women in the Order," Safa corrected. "I was at the medal-awarding ceremony. They said there was one woman not present due to her being in a coma."

"Then clearly that woman cannot've been me," Ana shrugged. "She's in a coma."

Safa's grin got wider. "Ah, I thought that too, but then it occurred to me that in the interview, Potter spoke about a Dark Creature, a female Vampire named 'Ana'."

"So you assume this 'Ana' is me?"

"You're the only one she could be."

"But if Ana is still in a coma?"

"She's a Vampire. I highly doubt after all this time she would still be asleep."

"But why would I be visiting Sirius Black?"

"Well," Safa leaned closer, her voice dropping to conspiratorial tones. "You're his Sire, aren't you?"

Ana blinked and took a small step back.

"Aha! You are! I was right, I knew it! Sirius Black is a _Vampire_."

"I never said that."

"You didn't need to! I've seen Tonks and Shaklebolt sneaking him in thermoses. He doesn't eat his food, never sits in the sun, barely sleeps, and he really should look older than he does. I've gone once or twice to deliver his food tray. Sirius Black is a Vampire, isn't he?"

Ana shook her head. "I'm not telling you either way."

Safa frowned. "Why not? You think they'll use it against him in court?"

Ana's eyebrows drew down. Red flickered in the depths of her glare. "Don't even suggest that. Sirius is a good man who deserves a fair trial. Whether he's breathing or not has nothing to do with his actions seventeen years ago. If I find out that you sabotaged his chances--"

Safa put out her hands in a defensive gesture. "Whoa, whoa! I'm not suggesting anything like that. I'm with the Rights of Dark Creatures division - if anything, I'd argue the opposite. I have no desire to see an innocent man - alive or not - sent to Azkaban."

Ana leaned back. "Good. Well then. Good day, Miss Farag, Kid-Behind-The-Desk..." Ana nodded to each of them and shoved her hands back into her pockets, walking across the foyer to the main doors.

Just as she was about to push them open, Safa said, "Ana!" and the Vampire turned around.

"Yeah?

The young lady grinned. "Just testing."

The Vampire rolled her eyes, lowered her head against the cold wind, and was out the door.

To the side of the security desk, a woman in a sharp, dark green Muggle-Style business suit stood, clutching a black briefcase. At her throat was a winding serpent pendant. "Interesting woman," the lady said and Safa turned around to smile at her. "I'm looking forward to interviewing her."

"Sirius Black is through there," Safa grinned, and watched as the woman sashayed towards the prisoner's cells, her bright green eyes dancing and her short, curly black hair bouncing with each swaying step. "Go easy on him, Aunt Donia!"

Donia Sawwan, legal council to the accused, just laughed.

* * *

Sirius black stared across the table at what the Auror guard had called his 'lawyer'. She was gorgeous, with curves in all the right places and a skirt too tight and short to be deemed respectable. It was a damned good thing he had the hots for Ana, or he'd be in danger of losing his heart. Or, at least, would be tempted to give into his lust.

She was going through some parchments in her case, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her papers. At her throat glittered a silver serpent pendant and he groaned inwardly. _Of course - I'm being represented by a Slytherin._

Finally she snapped the briefcase shut and for the first time, spoke to him.

"Hello, Mr. Black," she drawled sweetly. "My name is Donia Sawwan, and I'm you're legal defence."

_Yeah_, Sirius thought, noting the way she shamelessly looked him up and down, _but who's gonna defend me from you...?_


	21. Delusional

Part Twenty One: "Delusional"

* * *

Upon her return to Hogwarts, Ana went up to the Headmaster's office. She barely passed anyone in the halls, save for Mrs. Norris and the Grey Lady. The cat gave her a wide berth.

It had indeed taken Ana a night to fly back to Hogwarts, but she had enjoyed the exertion and the chance to think.

She had done a lot of thinking, mostly about Sirius' trial and what she could do to try to stack the cards in his favour. An idea had occurred to her, and she had begun to rehearse what she would say.

It was just an hour or so before dawn, and as much as she hated waking anybody up, Ana had been thinking about this conversation all night and wouldn't be put off.

She gave the password at the base of Albus' Phoenix statue and rode the stairs upwards. When she got to the door she tried the handle and found it open.

"Albus?" she called softly into the room, peeking her head around the jamb.

"He's asleep in his chair, deary," one of the portraits whispered, and Ana waved the painted witch a little thank you and went over to the fireplace. Indeed, there was Albus, sitting on one of the wing-backed chairs, chin against his chest, mouth open slightly, a photo album open on his lap.

Ana craned her neck around to see what he had been looking at, and smiled softly when she recognized herself in the pictures. This was at the All-England Qudditch Championships. It had been, oh, 1932, maybe? Maybe earlier. Albus' team, the Ballycastle Bats, had taken home the cup and, yes, if she looked closely enough, Ana could see her own face among the people in the stands.

This had been the first time she had ever seen Albus play Quidditch. She'd seen the game a few times before, in other places- there had been a few fanatics at the horrible non-human school she'd briefly attended. She remembered being very impressed with Albus' playing... it had been about the time she had started to fall in love with him.

And yes, there was another picture below that one... Albus and his teammates, raising up the Cup, grinning, and Ana gripped firmly in a one-armed hug. Her own smile was bright and cheerful and ... open. Trusting.

Would she... _could _she ever be that open again?

After what she had suffered at the hands of Dorin? Or Voldemort?

Ana shook her head to physically jar those morbid thoughts loose. She had other things to worry about. More important things. Like Sirius and his trial. She would not let something like Dorin's abuses turn her into a gibbering pile of Jell-O, not after she'd come so far from the last time she had seen him, and not with a childe to take care of.

That was a second startling thought to Ana – she was a _sire_. She was a _mother_.

She had _never_ thought she would ever make a childe, and yet, here she was, up to her elbows in the very magical world shit she'd been trying to avoid since her divorce from Albus, and all on her childe's behalf.

Turning her attention back to Albus, Ana decided to try to get him into a bed before he fell out of his chair or stiffened up all his neck muscles.

Carefully she slid the book out of his limp hands and closed it up, setting it aside on his desk. On the small table beside wing-backed chair stood a stone-cold cup of hot chocolate. She moved this to his desk as well, then knelt beside him and shook his knee gently.

"Albus," she said softly. He muttered under his breath and Ana shook him a bit harder. "Albus."

He lifted one eyelid and peered at her blearily. "Anathema?"

"Hey you - you fell asleep in your chair."

"Oh, my." Albus slowly levered himself onto his feet and took Ana's offered arm for support. "I did. What time is it?"

"About four."

"In the morning? Oh, dear." He pushed his classes up the bridge of his nose and moved over to the hall tree behind his desk. He pulled on the bathrobe that was hanging there and snuggled into it. "I should go to bed."

"Yeah," Ana stood and shoved her hands into her pockets.

Albus walked around the room, blowing out candles and scratching Fawks briefly behind his plume. The phoenix trilled once in his sleep and ruffled his feathers, then settled back down. "How did your talk with Sirius go?"

"Fine."

Albus turned to favour her with a sharp-eyed glance. "Just fine?"

"Albus, I'm not one of your students. You don't have to Look at me that way."

He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "What way?"

"_That_ way. That... you're-not-telling-me-everything-and-we-both-know-it way."

"Well..."

Ana sighed and rolled her eyes. "It went okay. He seems alright. A bit surly, which seems justified, but alright."

Albus sat down on the edge of his desk, arms folded over his chest, his ankles crossed casually. "And what did you talk about?"

"The trial, mostly. How he thought it would go. What he would do after."

"Ah - Sirius met with his lawyer today. You may have just missed her. She, ehrm, owled me..." he turned and started sifting through the massive amount of loose parchments on his desk. "Yes, here - she wants an interview with you sometime in the next week."

He handed the letter over to Ana, who skimmed it quickly. "Yeah, okay - that's good. It's not like I have a lot to do otherwise. I was just going to pop back over to my house and get some clothes." She held her hands out to the sides a little to indicate the robe she was wearing. "As much fun as the girls of Gryffindor are having playing dress-up, I'm sure they'll be wanting their clothes back."

Albus chuckled. "Well, I must admit it is amusing to see you in Miss Patil's favourite orange skirt."

Ana bounced The Look back at him. "Nothing else was clean. You _know_ I hate wearing orange."

Albus wisely changed the subject. "So you intend to stay at Hogwarts until Sirius' trial?"

Ana met the eyes of the Headmaster. "Well, I hoped so – unless you'd rather I didn't."

Albus shook his head. "I have no problems with it, and I think Remus and Harry would be happy to have you stay until then. Ah, and Professor Tincture was talking about using you in a practical demonstration in DADA about how to fight off a Vampire."

"As long as he doesn't try to stake me, I'm up for it. Gotta earn my keep, right?"

"Very good - I'll let him know." Albus rose to his feet and moved towards the door, but stopped when he realized Ana wasn't following him. "There was... something else you wanted to talk about?"

Ana nodded. "Two somethings, actually."

"Do you mind if I sit for them?"

"Not at all. This could wait for the morning, if you want."

"No, no, I'm awake now."

Albus went back to his wingbacked chair and Ana pulled the other one closer and took a seat on it, waiting out the Headmaster as he stoked the fire with a muttered spell. The heat began to flood the room and he sighed.

"Not quite as young as I used to be," he laughed gently. "Cold gets to me rather easily, I'm afraid. In better days I could fly around in sub-zero weather, knocking those bludgers harder than any other... well... not so much anymore, eh, Ana?"

"I'm sure you could give these kids a run for their money yet, Albus."

"Hm," he closed his eyes and smiled briefly. "I'm sure you didn't want to talk about my glory days, eh? What's on your mind?"

Ana settled back into her chair, crossing her knees, and sucking briefly on her bottom lip. "I kind of wanted to talk about us."

"Us?"

"About... what we had. I guess I'm looking for... a sense of closure." Albus nodded once. "Albus... what we had... it was a good thing, right? It was a ... _pure_ thing."

Albus followed her meaning exactly. "You never hurt me, Ana. Not once."

"Except when I left you."

Albus closed his eyes slowly, as if the light from the fire pained them, then opened them again. "It's as much my fault as yours. We were just... not good for each other."

"Why not?" Ana growled in frustration. "I mean, I loved you. You loved me, didn't you?"

"...yes."

"Then what was 'not good' about it?"

Albus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and took her hands in his. "Ana, my dear, my sweetest... Vampires are creatures ruled by the need to posses. I ... I wasn't prepared to give myself to you in the way that your nature deemed I ought to. I couldn't. I wasn't ready. I didn't want to. We would never have been happy."

Ana let her gaze slide to the floor. "I know... I just... I'm worried."

"Why?"

"Well... I'm worried that I'll ... be alone... again... forever."

"Ah," Albus squeezed her hands once. "This is about Sirius and Remus."

"You know?"

Albus laughed lightly. "I think everyone with eyes knows, my dear. I'm afraid I cannot make this easier for you. Both Sirius and Remus care for you very much, and both deserve nothing but happiness. Both have had hard lives and you would be a welcome spot of warmth to either."

"I know!" Ana ran a hand through her hair, frustrated. "I just..."

"Ana," Albus said softly. "Go to the one who makes _you_ happiest. The other one will understand."

"Yeah, yeah... you're right." She looked up to meet his eyes. "And you're okay with that? Me, with someone else... one of your former students no less."

"I am. So long as they're of legal age." His eyes sparkled with amusement. "I'm content here Ana - you deserve contentment too."

"... thank you."

Albus stood slowly, and Ana could hear his joints creaking. "You're welcome. Now, if that's it, I would like to retire. It is very early and I have to be up in a few hours."

"Of course." Ana helped him stand and walked with him to his office door.

Albus placed his hand around the door knob, then paused. "Oh, dear – I forgot, Ana, what was the second thing you wanted to talk about?"

Ana glanced briefly over her shoulder to the small table in the ante chamber, guarded by house elves and numerous spells. On top of it sat a squat black cage. Inside was a silver-pawed rat.

"Ah, I see." Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, go ahead. But... do be gentle on him."

* * *

Ana stood before the cage that held Peter Pettigrew with a slight sneer on her face.

"Hallo, Rat-Boy," she said, and the rat squeaked in outrage. The two house elves shifted slightly at their posts, but didn't move otherwise. Ana reached around the guard-spells and flicked the cage door open. The rat lunged out onto the table, hissing and baring his fangs, and with Vampiric speed Ana snatched him up by his ruff and hissed back. "My fangs are longer, dumb-ass."

She pulled the rat up and cradled it against her chest gently. The house elves followed closely behind her as Ana walked over to and settled in one of the wingback chairs by the fireplace. The flames were beginning to fizzle, and one of the elves kicked and blew at it until it was riding high again.

Ana reached across the small space and set the rat down in the chair opposite her, meeting its eyes.

"Peter Pettigrew - you are a Werewolf now, and I am a Vampire." The rat squeaked again, this time sounding rather meek and pathetic. It lifted its chin slightly and Ana smiled. "Take your human form."

Suddenly a shrivelled, middle-aged man with a pointed face and wispy mousy hair sat shuddering before her, his hands pulled up against his chest, his wrists limp, his nose twitching.

"Peter Pettigrew, I assume?" Ana said and the man blinked, not saying anything. Without warning Ana lashed out a foot and rapped the leg of the wingback smartly with the heel of her boot. It made the chair shudder and make a cracking sound and Peter jumped and closed his eyes.

Ana smiled a smile that was not at all pleasant and steepled her fingers.

"When I ask you a question, you will answer. Is that clear?"

Again Pettigrew just shivered and again Ana slammed her heel against the leg of the chair. Pettigrew 'eeped' and tried to fold in on himself. Ana snarled and reached out and wrapped a fist into the front of his Death Eater robes. She shook him viciously and shouted, "_Open your fucking eyes and look at me, dumbass."_

Peter finally did, his pupils wide in fear, his nose and bottom lip twitching. At first he looked everywhere but at her eyes, but she shook him again, making certain to knock the back of his head against the back of the chair, and Pettigrew did what he was told.

"You will do as I say, do you understand me?"

It took the shivering animagus a few tries to make sound come out, and when it did, his voice was strained, high, and breathy, "Y-yes."

"Good."

Ana released his robe-front with a slight shove. She sat back in her own chair, crossing her knees and her arms over her chest.

"Peter Pettigrew - Lord Voldemort is dead."

Peter blinked.

"How do you feel about that?"

Peter shuddered once, swallowing hard, then said, slowly, "I am happy - I always knew Harry Potter would prevail. I knew Harry Potter would rescue me from the clutches of the man who murdered my best frie–"

"**_Bullshit_**!" Ana snarled and kicked the chair leg again. Peter let out a small shriek of terror and covered his ears. "You will tell me the truth, you goddamned _murderer_."

Peter shivered once, all over, then raised his eyes to her. He glared out from under unkempt eyebrows, a snarl pulling up one corner of his lip, revealing brown and yellow teeth. "I am angry."

"Why?"

"Because this means that I have been betrayed!"

It was Ana's turn to blink dumbly. "Come again?"

Pettigrew snarled, his sharp fingernails digging into the arms of the chair. "Lord Voldemort promised me power! He promised me _respect_. He has failed me! He has betrayed me! _Every_thing that I have done, everything that I have accomplished, as been in the name of Voldemort – and I have only followed Voldemort so that I may succeed him!"

"Whoa, whoa, back up. You think... _you_... would have been named Voldemort's heir?"

Peter's fingers clenched and Ana could hear the wood of the chair arms creaking with the strain. "I would have! I was the most loyal! I helped him regain his body! I gave him my _hand_!"

"You're deluded," Ana said softly. Peter snarled again and tried to look away but she shoved at his willpower with her own and beat him back, subduing him. "And you're sick. I wanted to talk to you, Peter... to try to help you. I see now that its useless." He bared sharp yellow teeth at here and she bared her own back. He cowered and she continued: "This is what's going to happen, Rat-Boy: In a few weeks, Sirius Black is going on trial for the murder of Lily and James Potter, as well as the thirteen Muggles on the street. And you. You and I both know that he is innocent, and has lost seventeen years of his life because of this. _You,_ Peter Pettigrew, are going to walk into that courtroom and tell everyone exactly what happened. Am I clear?"

Peter shuddered, one hand going over his stomach as if he was about to retch.

"**_Am I clear!_**?"

"...yes."

"Good." Ana hissed between her teeth. "What will then happen is this - you will confess yourself the murder and proceed to tell the court room _everything_ you've _ever_ done in support of the Dark. Am I clear?"

"Yes."

"And then you will willingly submit to any punishment and treatment that is prescribed to you. And you will make the effort to become healthy and mental stable again. Am I clear?"

"Yes."

Ana leaned forward, her hands on her knees. "Lastly, you will _apologize _to Sirius Black. It's not even close to making up for everything you've done to ruin his life, but you will apologize nonetheless. You will also apologize to Remus Lupin and Harry Potter and Ron Weasley for deceiving and hurting all of them. Am I clear?"

Peter's lips twitched again, his jaw working, his fingered clenching and unclenching on the arm of the chair. Eventually he ground out, "...yes."

"Good. Until then, you will be a good little rat and sit in the corner of your cage and think about what you've done."

Peter did not move.

"That was an order, fucktard."

Peter snarled one last time, then slipped down into his rat form. One of the house elves snatched him up in his long fingers and marched him back over to the cage on the table. The other house elf leaned over to whisper into Ana's ear as she slumpled down on the chair, rubbing the bridge of her nose. Maintaining contact to give orders to such an unwilling mind for such an extended period of time had given her a mighty headache.

The other House Elf had stayed by her elbow. The creature now lay long fingers on the arm of the chair beside Ana's hand. "Mistress is very tired," the Elf said in a high breathy voice.

"Yes, I am," Ana sighed softly.

"Mistress would like a cup of hot blood before she retires? Mimsy will send for someone to bring it to Mistress in her chambers?"

Ana smiled. "Yes, Mimsy, I would appreciate that. Thank you."

Ana got to her feet and Ana made her way to the door of Dumbledore's office.

"Mistress?" Mimsy called after her, and Ana paused to look at the house elf.

"Yeah?"

Mimsy's long ears drooped slightly and she rubbed her feet together nervously. "Mimsy just wanted to say ... Mimsy likes to think of the students as maybe her own kittens. Mimsy loves to take care of them and keep them warm and happy. Mimsy knows how much the Dark Lord was a danger to her kittens... Mimsy just wanted to say thank you."

Ana smiled softly. "You're welcome."

* * *

Ana was sitting in the courtroom. It was grey and cold and made her shiver. There were people all around her, people she had never met, people with glints in their eyes that she didn't like. In the Jury box sat six figures in dark robes and white masks.

Sirius was chained in the witness box, screaming, wrenching at the manacles around his wrists, but he couldn't jerk them free. Harry stood in the middle of the floor, head bowed. There was blood on his face - - his scar was oozing blood. He was staring dumbly at the stain of red on his fingertips. He wasn't moving.

There was a wolf laying beside him, wheezing, growling, his ruff fur matted with blood. Remus?

Ana jumped to her feet - "Objection!" she screamed, and no body heard her. "Biased jury! Objection!"

The Judge lifted his gavel and pounded it down. "Murderer! The Veil!"

"The veil! The veil!" the room picked up the chant.

"O_bjection_!" Ana screamed again, trying to raise her voice above the din. She shoved her way forward through the crowd, pushing aside those who got in her way. She burst onto the floor, but she was too late.

A darkness formed around Sirius and yanked him backwards, off his feet. His eyes were wide, his mouth opened in an 'o' of soundless terror. Cold wind rushed out of the curtain and filled the room. Harry fell onto his back and lay still. The wolf bared its fangs and curled in on itself.

"Your Honour!" Ana screamed at the judge, and he raised a spidery hand to pull back his own deep hood. A noseless, green-skinned face greeted hers, red eyes blazing with glee.

"Anathema Oldwyn," he hissed. "By the power vested in me by my mentor Albus Dumbledore and the Wizarding council, I now pronounce you man and wife."

"What?"

Ana felt a large hand wrap around her arm and was yanked forward to meet a bruising pair of lips. She wrenched her head away and found herself staring at a grinning Dorin.

"I never said 'I Do!' " she howled, struggling to get her arm free. "I never said it!"

Dorin's eyes flashed red and she could see his fangs poking out over his bottom lip. "No!" she shrieked, even as he lunged forward, wrapping a cruel hand in her hair and yanking her head to the side to expose the flesh of her neck. "_No_!"

* * *

"**_No_**!"

Ana sat bolt upright, clutching the blankets close to her chest, her mouth still open in a scream. She snapped her lips shut, ignoring the slight clicking made by her teeth meeting. She was shivering and fumbled in the dark for her wand. It was sitting on the bedside table.

"_Inflamare!_" she hissed, pointing at the fireplace, and immediately the prepared tinder caught and lit up the room. It took a few more minutes for the warmth to reach her, and when it did, Ana finally let go of the blanket.

She sat, alone, contemplating her nightmare for a few long moments before forcing herself out of the bed. She had laid a fresh pair of black jeans and a dark red turtleneck sweater out on a chair by the fire the night before, and she donned them now, adding her heavy black combat boots and a winter-weight robe.

Last week Ana had nipped over to Hogsmeade to pick up the much-loved boots, but she had planned to go back to her Privet Drive house to pick up a suitable amount of clothes for the rest of her visit. Sirius' trial was on the 19th of December. It was now November 12th - that meant they had a little under five weeks to pull Sirius' defence together. 28 days.

Tomorrow (or today, rather, because by her watch - which she had also bought in Hogsmeade - it was just about noon) was Saturday. That meant Harry would go back to visit Sirius. Ana would return to see him on Monday, as she would depart for Privet Drive later this afternoon, after Harry got back, and wouldn't return until late Sunday.

Tuesday she would see if Prof. Tincture would like her to attend his lectures, and that would probably take the whole day. Then sometime on Wednesday she would try to get together with Sirius' lawyer, Ms. Donia Sawwan. Maybe she would go back and visit Sirius again on Thursday.

Trying to shove her nightmare to the back of her mind, Ana left her chambers in search of the kitchens. Eventually she followed her nose, avoiding the streams of sunlight cutting across the various halls. The scent of food lead her to a giant portrait of a bowl of fruit and she puzzled at it.

She figured if she stood there long enough, someone would take pity on her and open the door. Hogwarts liked to employ portraits which guarded the various student dormitories and classrooms, but she had never seen anyone to talk with fruits. Maybe the person in the portrait had stepped out?

"Er, Hello?" she called out, and the painting swung outward on it's frame.

"Ah, wot can Dobby get for miss?"

Ana blinked down at the _very_ over dressed house elf and said, "May I bother you for a hot cup of...er... blood?"

Dobby's eyes grew wide and shiny. "Ah, you are the vampire miss that saved Harry Potter! Come in, come in, Dobby would be very happy to be giving you lunch!"

Ana thanked him and glanced inside, then quickly changed her mind. There were _way_ too many scurrying browny- green critters in there for her liking. "Thank you, no, I'm actually on my way somewhere else - mind if I take it to go?"

"Not at all, miss." Dobby rushed off and returned with a large mug of steaming red liquid - he ensured her that it came from the gooses that were to be served at dinner. "Be sure that miss comes back if she is wanting anything else."

"Thanks," Ana nodded to the elf, still rather creeped out by them in general, and sipped the mug of blood as she travelled back to the upper levels of the castle, trying to remember for the life of her where Remus was staying.

In the end she had to accost a pair of Hufflepuff first-years to play tour guide, which they were happy to do.

"Is it true," one of them asked as they helped her to navigate the moving staircases, "That you and Professor Lupin are... you know... boyfriend and girlfriend?"

Ana laughed lightly, "Where did you rugrats hear that?"

They exchanged a look and both went bright red. "One of the Slytherin sixth-years said that Professor Lupin said that he lets you suck him on his neck."

Ana's eyebrows rose into her hairline. "Oh, he does, does he?"

The other Hufflepuff girl nodded. "Yeah - doesn't that make you married or something? For Vampires, I mean."

"No, it doesn't. I suggest you read your homework on the undead a little more closely next time, sweetheart. Remus... er... Professor Lupin doesn't let me ... um... suck on his neck." Ana quickly chugged the rest of the blood in her mug and made a face as she hit the cold stuff in the bottom. "Eugh. Gross. Cold."

"So where _does_ he let you suck him?" one of the students piped up eagerly and Ana coughed.

_They have no idea what they just implied,_ Ana reminded herself, even as she was ready to start screaming at them that they were too young to even _think_ such things, let alone in impropriety of inquiring about the personal love-life of one of their professors.

"Sometimes Prof. Lupin lets me bite his wrist, if I'm sick or hurt or hungry. But we're _not_ boyfriend or girlfriend - he just does it because he's my friend and he doesn't want to see me hurting. That's _all_."

The girls shot her a look that said they were sceptical of her answer, but said nothing else on the subject. Thankfully they arrived at Prof. Lupin's chambers shortly thereafter and Ana was left alone in the hall outside of his door, clutching an empty mug and contemplating what the two girls had said.

She had originally come to his room to talk to him about her plans and her nightmare, but maybe there was something else they needed to talk about, too.

* * *

Remus Lupin was too absorbed in his reading to have heard or smelled Ana approaching. But as soon as he heard the knock he scented her under the doorjamb and rushed to answer.

"Hello, hello, come in," he said as he unlocked and pulled back the door. Ana smiled and walked into the room.

"Ah, nice digs. Better than mine."

Remus shrugged, gesturing vaguely at the room around him. It was a typically English study, with a wall of books. There a narrow window opposite the doorway, whose heavy drapes were drawn shut, an already-cluttered desk and creaking leather banker's chair, and the inevitable fireplace. On the mantle sat an odd collection of nick-nacks and dust, and on the floor before the grate was a worm but plush dark red carpet and two comfortable but old looking wingbacked chairs, a small glass-top table between them. On the table sat an open book and a half-drunk mug of what smelled like coffee.

There was a heavy wooden door on the opposite wall from the fireplace which must have led to the bedroom.

Remus shrugged, "Well, mine are a Professor's apartment. I'll be living here from now on." He gestured for her to take the chair opposite hers, even as he settled back into his own. "You know, you're welcome here any time."

"Thanks," she said softly, eyes on the empty mug in her hand. She set it aside and said, carefully, "Remus, we need to talk."

"Oh, dear," he whispered and his own eyes dropped to his lap. "Good things never follow those words."

"Remus I... I don't know where to start with this. I had a nightmare."

"Oh?" Relief flashed over his eyes and Ana wasn't sure how to take his look. She ignored it instead.

"In it... in it I was trying to save Sirius. He was on trial and Lord Mouldy-wart was the judge and was going to send him back through the Veil. I know it was just a nightmare and yet... when I think of losing him..." Ana stopped talking and squeezed her eyes shut, willing the wave of panic and depression to burn away. "I've never _needed_ anyone before but I... I think I might _need_ him."

Remus nodded slowly. His heart was thudding in his ears and he couldn't seem to swallow, but he forced himself to calm down. "I understand, Ana. I... really, I do." He leaned forward and took her hands in his. In his minds eye he was replaying every memory of every moment he had ever touched Ana, held her close, bussed her cheek with his own, let her feed from his wrist...

_No_, he told himself. _She's chosen Sirius. Second place again, Old Man._

"I was hoping it'd be me," he admitted softly. "But... I'm glad it's Sirius. Sirius needs you, too."

"I'm sorry," she said softly.

Remus slid out of his chair and knelt on the rug in front of her and lifted his chin. Gently, he pressed his lips against hers. He stayed that way for a moment before pulling back and returning to his seat. "I hope you'll be happy together, for as long as... well... as long as two Vampires can be together."

"Thank you."

A knock on the door interrupted them and Harry's voice called out from the other side. "Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?" he called back.

"I'm just heading out to see Sirius... you sure you don't want to come?"

"I'm going tomorrow, but thank you, Harry."

"Okay - hey, I can't find Ana. Can you tell her Ron and Hermione and I have gone?"

Remus grinned and flicked his husky-blue eyes back to Ana. "I'll be sure to."

* * *

Ana spent the remainder of the afternoon in Remus' rooms, chatting, waiting for Harry to return, and poking through some of his books. She was pleasantly surprised to see his name attached to several influential articles on Werewolf psychology in a few of his academic journals.

When she brought them out to show him, Remus blushed and called them "trifles. Just something to pass the time, you know."

Over tea and blood, she told him how impressed she was with the service at Hogwarts. He explained that the House Elves (despite what Hermione may think), were creatures who were happiest when their family was happy. The elves would do whatever it took to make Ana welcome and comfortable, and if that included keeping a pot of blood from the meat that would end up on the student's tables for Ana, then that's what they'd do.

Ana told him about her foray to the kitchen earlier in the day (he told her about tickling the pear), and Dobby. Then she recounted the frustration of trying to find her way around Hogwarts.

That was one of the reasons Ana hated living in the magical world so much – nothing bloody stayed where it should.

Ana and Remus laughed over what the Hufflepuff students who had shown her the way to his room had what the two young girls had assumed about them. This confession was followed by an awkward pause. Remus reached across the rug, pulled Ana's mug out of her hands and pulled her by the arms into his lap. He wrapped one arm around her hips and cupped the back of her head with his other hand. He lifted his chin to press another fumbling kiss against her lips.

Ana allowed it, pressing her own tongue against his when it slipped past her lips, but it was Remus who ended it, Remus who pulled back. He let her slide down to curl up against his torso, wrapping his arms around her shoulders in a relaxed cuddling hug, rested his nose against her hair and said, softly, "I really can't have you, can I?"

Ana shrugged gently. "Remus, I... I really really wish I could feel about you the way I feel about Sirius, but... I don't. I have a responsibility to Sirius. He's my childe. I need to be there for him."

"Is that all that holds you to him? Responsibility?"

Ana shook her head. "No... that's a big part of it, but no. I... I've known Sirius longer. I trust him. Not that I don't trust you. But I don't trust _me_ with you. I'm still a Vampire, Remus, and you're still a Werewolf. I could do something stupid. And I can't take you away from Hogwarts."

Remus inhaled and Ana could feel his slow exhalation against the sensitive skin under her ear. If gave her goosebumps and shivers - the right kind. "You can stay here. I'm sure Dumbledore will find you a job."

"I have a job, Remus. A job that I can't continue at Hogwarts 'cause I need the Internet." Speaking of which - she made a mental note to pick up her Laptop, too. She hadn't worked on her websites in over two months, and she'd have to flap off to the Shrieking Shack to get far enough away from the magical interference to get a wireless signal of any sort.

She had just left everything behind when she had gone to find out if Sirius was really poisoned by Vampire venom way back in September, and hadn't been back to her house on Privet Drive since. She'd had too much responsibility at Grimmauld Place to take off for a few days to retrieve clothes and her work stuff, and really, had been enjoying this mini-vacation too much to want to work.

And then all the shit had hit all the fans.

Ana thought about her new house. She hadn't exactly moved away from her old place in Liverpool because she'd wanted to. Neighbours had begun to ask questions, to figure things out - it was time for her to move on again. She'd lived in sixteen separate flats in several different countries since her divorce from Albus, and had never been able to stay in any of them for long. They had all been in Muggle neighbourhoods and Muggles did tend to get suspicious.

She had never considered moving into the Wizarding world - as much as Muggles were suspicious, Wizards would probably try to kill her for simply existing. Which is why she found it so strange that she was now sitting in the lap of a Werewolf in the middle of the single most magical place in all of Great Britain, her ex-husband in an office somewhere above her, and her childe in a magical prison underneath London, charged with cursing people he'd never cursed.

Yes, she'd kept up with the major events of the Wizarding world - she'd grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet every once and a while. She'd heard about Lord Voldemort, heard the names 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' and seen Sirius Black's 'wanted' posters. But she had never put much stock in it.

It wasn't _her_ world.

It wasn't _her_ fight.

She considered herself a Muggle.

If she found herself threatened, she left.

Only it had become her fight, quickly, and intimately.

Ana supposed that if Lord Voldemort had succeeded, she would have just left Great Britain. If his influence had stretched further, than she would have run beyond it.

How strange this world was.

Anathema, who had always _avoided_ problems, had played a major part in the downfall of not only the Dark Lord, but in the destruction of her own Master as well. And, she was about to try to make history by participating in the most talked-about trial of the last twenty years.

And all because she had moved into Number Three Privet Drive, Little Whinging, rather than the other house in Devonshire that had caught her eye.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against Remus' collar bone.

"So, you have to live in a Muggle neighbourhood?" he asked. "For work, I mean."

"Yeah. And to be truthful, Remus, I'm not willing to have another Hogwarts-Home relationship again. That's how Albus and I lived and it just didn't work."

Remus hummed and inhaled and exhaled against her neck again, making other parts of her body tingle. "I could find another job."

"Are you kidding me? This is exactly where you belong, Remus, and you know it. You can make a difference here. You can write your papers and give guest lectures and if you work here with their kids, people will trust you. You know there's no other place as perfect as this."

Remus chuckled softly, his warm breath ruffling her hair. "You're far too logical for my own good. Yes, I know, this is the perfect place for me. I can change the face of Dark Creature relations if I stay here. That's what I've always dreamed about. But... I've always wanted a family, too. A wife. Kids. I don't think I can get that here."

Ana poked his chest lightly. "I can't give that to you, either."

She could feel Remus frowning against her hair. "I... guess I forgot. You're right. I just... Ana, you are the first person who... whose let me ... touch you... like this. I mean, the first person who _knows._" He gambled and closed his teeth gently against the shell of her ear, nipping. His voice buzzed against her skin. "I had girlfriends in Hogwarts, but we never... we were kids. And once a witch figured it out, and she always would, she was gone. I dated a Muggle once but even she had a feeling of... not right-ness. I've been... very lonely."

He sighed again, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

"You smell so... nice. And you're not scared of me, Ana. It feels so wonderful to... hold someone again. To know that I can't hurt her or scare her."

He ran a hand through her hair and titled his head to press another kiss against her lips. She didn't resist, but she didn't lean forward to meet him.

"I know that you would be happiest with Sirius, I know that," he pressed, running his nose down the side of her neck, scenting deeply. Ana let her head fall back, closing her eyes. "And I know that Sirius deserves his happiness, god, does he deserve it. But I want to be selfish. I want to be happy for once. I want to feel loved."

"You are loved, Remus," Ana whispered and Remus returned his lips to hers for another soft and lingering kiss before turning his teeth to her collarbones, nipping and sucking. "You're my friend, and Sirius'. Harry and his friends love you, they trust you. The whole Order cares about you, worries for you."

Remus lifted his head to meet her eyes, his own half closed and sparkling in the firelight, beastly amber sparkling in the husky-blue depths. His hands were running up and down her back, one working its way under her shirt, the other twirling the strands of her un-waxed hair around his slender fingers.

"But I want _this_," he insisted, pressing his hips against Ana's. His arousal was becoming obvious, poking at the back of her thigh. "I want _you_."

Ana twisted around in his grip, pressing her own knees into the arms of the chair as she straddled his pelvis, her hands going up to cup his face and play with his shaggy forelock and sideburns. She pressed her mouth against his, licking the bottom his lips, nibbling on it.

He was just too tempting.

Remus' hand dropped from her hair to side down into the back of her jeans, cupping her soft skin and pressing her hips until they ground wonderfully against his.

Ana broke off the kiss and moved tickle his own ear with her breath. "I can't do this, Remus."

"Please," he begged, "Just this once. Just once before I loose you forever. I'll never ask again. I'll never tell Sirius."

"Sirius won't care, and that's not the point. I don't want to..." she gasped as his nimble fingers managed to unclasp her bra. "... to hurt you."

"Hurt me," he growled against her throat, setting his teeth against her skin. He bit down - not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make his point. He sucked, determined to leave a mark. "Please hurt me."

"Remus..."

"Just this once..."

Ana ran a hand down his chest, searching for his belt. She found it and worked her fingers into the leather pouch that she knew he'd have hanging off his belt loop. He kept his wand in there, a small silver coin that would burn him when he touched it, which he could use to reign himself in, in case he ever found himself out of control, the few meagre galleons he owned, and a pocket knife.

She lifted the knife and pressed the blade gently against the skin under his ear, making a short, shallow slice. As the blood began to bead out, Ana felt her eyeteeth pressing forward, but mentally forbade her fangs from extending from their pockets in her upper jaw. She would not infect Remus.

She pressed her lips against the cut and drove her tongue into the wound, probing, tearing the tissue wider. She tossed the knife aside.

Remus whined and arched forward against her. He raised the arm under her red turtleneck and shucked the material that was separating them. He then fumbled off his own shirt, happy that he'd chosen to wear a button-down so that Ana's sucking was not interrupted. She was licking gently, lapping at the wound like a kitten. It was driving him crazy.

Their tops gone, he pulled her against him, her flesh cold against his. It was warming slowly, and again Remus felt the swell of pride that came from knowing her warmth came from his own blood. Her fingers worked against the fastenings of his pants, shoving them open. One small hand slipped down under his shorts and Remus closed his eyes and threw his head back.

Between her nimble fingers and her hot mouth, Remus felt his climax surge forward faster than he expected. Determined to be unselfish, he attacked the fly of her jeans and began to return the favour.

He felt Ana chuckle against his neck, her voice causing his skin to tingle.

The next ten minutes were a blur of pleasure. Remus knew that at one point they fell off the chair, and he remembered the sensation of trying to kick off his slippers. He heard Ana growling in his ear, his head thrown back against the plush rug, his mouth gaping wide, soft whimpers coming from his throat. He felt Ana pressed against his chest, her knees on either side of his hips, her fingers wound in his, her lips still latched onto his neck.

As he crested, he felt his eyes rolling back into his head, unconsciousness surging upwards, pulling him under. He wondered if it was the blood loss or the orgasm.

He felt Ana press a soft kiss against his lips as he drifted off and decided that he really didn't care.

* * *

When he awoke, he realized that he was laying flat on his back, almost totally starkers on the rug.

Ana was no where to be seen, but he could hear her puttering around in his bedroom, the sound of water being poured from a jug into his wash basin.

He must have been out for only a few minutes. Remus sat up and realized his trousers were bunched up around his knees. Jeeze! He'd been so impatient he hadn't even properly disrobed. An intense blush fanning across his cheeks, Remus stood and pulled up his pants, ignoring the slight stickiness that stuck his shorts against the skin of his groin.

"Ana?" he called softly, and padded towards the bedroom. He pushed back the door and stood, leaning against the frame, watching her. She'd pulled all of her clothing back on, and there was a wet wash cloth resting on the side of the basin. She was re-adjusting her hair in the mirror over his bureau. "Ana?"

She turned to look at him, and smiled softly. There was a small spot of blood on her bottom lip and he crossed the room to gently kiss it away. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pressed his cheek against the top of her head and held her close.

After a few moments Ana said, "er... Remus?"

"Thank you," he whispered into her hair. "I'm such a selfish bastard."

"What?" she leaned away from him, forcing him to loosen his grip so he could look into her face.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, eyes on his hands, which were resting on her shoulders. "I pushed you, I'm sorry."

Ana laughed lightly. "Remus, you didn't push me into anything I didn't want. I'm a Vampire, remember? Trust me, you couldn't have forced me if you had wanted to."

"Then, thank you."

"For what?"

Remus kissed the tip of her nose. "For making me happy. I hope you'll still be my friend."

Ana grinned and gave him a small shove. "No, you won't be getting rid of me as easy as all that. It was just this once, Remus. We're both okay with that. Now we're friends."

Remus nodded.

"And now we're also late for dinner. One of the House Elves came up to ask if we'd be eating here while you were out."

"While I was..." Remus stepped away from her, his eyes wide with horror, "... laying down... naked?"

Ana laughed harder. "I didn't open the door that wide. I told it we'd be downstairs in a few minutes. I was going to wake you up in a minute if you hadn't woken up yourself. So there's the basin, and a wash cloth. I'll wait for you outside."

She walked out the door, shutting it behind her. To give him some privacy. Just as Remus had stripped off his trousers and shorts to wash up he heard a soft knock.

"Yes?"

"Remus?" Ana called out. "You better pick a turtleneck."

Remus turned and looked in the mirror.

"Oh, my," he said, his eye wide and his gaze locked on the livid purple hickey on his neck, the small cut in the centre still oozing blood a tiny bit. "Yes, I'd better."

* * *

Severus Snape was no big fan of Remus Lupin.

Lupin was a monster. Lupin was supposed to be miserable. Lupin was supposed to hate himself and feel sorry for picking on Severus when they were still in school and eventually vanish off the face of the Earth.

Instead he was taking his old position at Hogwarts (thank god Severus only had another month and a half left before he retired!), flouncing his monster-ness, and received the Order of Merlin along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Okay, yes, he deserved the medal for everything he'd done in the war, but _still._

It also annoyed Severus to no end that Sirius Black was going to be free soon, and that the Vampire woman with whom both men were enamoured would be around. (And Severus didn't really have the guts to hit on her, although he found her very attractive and appreciated her dark sense of humour. It mollified him to know that the moment he showed interest, she would probably dump them for him, anyway.)

When both Ana and Remus snuck into the Great Hall through the side entrance by the Head Table and took the two empty seats at the end, Severus sent a glare in their direction. Remus flushed red and toyed with the neck of his cardigan. Ana glared back at him over the coffee pot she had picked up. As she poured the steaming liquid into a cup by her hand, Severus noticed that it was bright crimson - ah, blood.

He also realized that Remus Lupin was wearing a turtleneck underneath his normal cardigan sweater. Remus _hated_ turtlenecks. He'd never worn them in school, nor later when he was a teacher.

In an instant Severus understood.

His scowl deepened and he was suddenly no longer hungry. He slumped down in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest, and ignored Potter and Potter's friend's amused glances.


	22. Little Discoveries

Part Twenty Two: "Little Discoveries"

* * *

Dinner finished, students on their way to bed, and Sirius-update complete (Harry blindsided her on the stairway), Anathema retired to her room to prepare for her journey. The sun had gone down while she had been exchanging glares with Severus across the table, so all she needed to do was drop off her clothes and pick up her wand.

Too bad transforming into her bat form meant she had to leave her clothing behind – it was definitely one of the disadvantages to being a Vampire over being an Animagus.

She had already discussed her return to Little Whinging with Albus - he would send someone to meet her at Number Three Privet Drive at nine o'clock tomorrow evening, and that person would show her how to get back to Hogwarts a faster way than going into London and waiting for the next Hogwarts Express.

With minimal ghost-dodging, Ana reached her rooms. Placing her wand on the covers of her bed, Ana locked her door and quickly and efficiently stripped out of her clothing. She folded it all neatly, waiting for the House Elves to wash them and return them to the students they belonged to. She set the bundle on the chair by the fireplace and sat on the side of the bed. Concentrating, she took her bat form, clutched her wand between her claws, and flew straight into the fireplace. She took a hard, upward turn and flapped her way up the chimney.

The chimney stack seemed to go on forever, and Ana wondered if she had maybe taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Finally, Ana burst free of the confining brick tunnel in a cloud of soot.

She flapped in a slow circle over the roofs of Hogwarts, getting her bearings. _Ah, okay... lake, shack... forest... and home is that way._

* * *

Sometime in the early morning, Ana landed on her own back stoop and let go of her wand. In an instant she was back in her human shape and puffing slightly. She may not need oxygen, but all that flying was hard work and she couldn't quash the human reflex to pant.

She glanced around, remaining stooped over, just in case there was some neighbour who happened to be at their back window. She felt absolutely foolish crouching on her own back porch in the middle of the night, absolutely starkers.

Lifting her wand she tapped her doorknob and hissed, "_Alohamora"._

The lock clicked and she pushed the door open cautiously.

The kitchen seemed empty, so she stood, shut the door behind her, and locked it. Feeling exposed, she dashed upstairs and donned her black and white fatigue pants, a pair of socks, and a black tank top before resuming her search of the house.

When she found no-one waiting to ambush her, she felt comfortable turning on the lights and poking around amid her stuff. The kitchen was the first place she went, hoping against hope that the blood in the fridge was still good.

It wasn't.

In fact, it was all gone.

Ana frowned at her empty fridge.

She knew for a fact that she had left a few of the packets she'd bought at the butchers there. Someone had taken it.

Other evidence that someone else had been here became obvious. Her laptop was unplugged and off. She knew she had accidentally left it on. Her car keys were hanging off the key hook on the wall rather then in the middle of the table. Her papers had been placed in a neat pile and the mug she had left on the counter was washed and in the cupboard.

What was going on here?

A burglar that was an obsessive compulsive neat-freak, too?

A knock on the door startled Ana, and clutching her wand in her hand, she tiptoed to the front hall. She peered through the curtains and was very surprised to see Petunia Dursley in her dressing gown and slippers, standing on the front porch, holding a plastic shopping bag.

_What the devil?_

Ana unlocked the door and opened it.

"Mr. Black," Petunia said as soon as the door swung back. "I saw the light was on, and I thought I'd bring you something to eat. I got a letter from Harry that said you were in jail."

"He is."

Petunia, who had been staring at her feet apologetically, jerked her head up and stared at Ana. "Ms. Oldwyn!"

"Yes. Come in, you look like you're freezing."

Petunia stepped around Ana and the Vampire closed the door and locked it after her. Petunia went into the kitchen and began to poke around. Finding a bowl shoved to the back of the shelf of dishes, she set it aside and rummaged in the shopping bag. Ana followed her out of curiosity.

"Mr. Black, you said, Mrs. Dursley?"

Petunia looked up, her hand still in the bag and nodded. "I'm surprised to see you, Ms. Oldwyn. Harry said you were in a coma."

"I woke up. _Harry_ sent you a letter?"

_My God,_ Ana thought, _I went to sleep in the real world and woke up in the Twilight Zone – my house has been cleaned, Remus wants me, Albus has let me go, Pettigrew's a werewolf, Petunia Dursley and Sirius Black seem to be on speaking terms, and Harry actually sent his Aunt a letter out of his own volition._

_If I didn't know any better, I'd swear **I'd** fallen behind the Veil._

Petunia nodded again in response to Ana's disbelief, and pulled something out of the shopping bag. It was a tupperware container. She set this in the microwave on the counter, opened the lid a little at the corner, and set it at fifty seconds.

"Mrs. Dursley,_ what_ is going on?"

Petunia reached into the bag and pulled out a tin of loose tea. As she filled the dusty and unused electric kettle and pulled a mug out of the cupboard for herself, she said, "Harry wrote me to tell me he was okay after the war."

Ana sat at the table and stared, one hand on her forehead, totally gobsmacked.

Petunia kept fiddling with the mug and the tea. When the microwave beeped, she removed the tupperware and poured some of its contents into the bowl, which she then set in front of Ana with a spoon she'd found in one of the Vampire's kitchen drawers.

"It looks like tomato soup," Ana said.

The kettle whistled and as Petunia poured hot water over her tea leaves she replied, "Its beef blood."

Ana stared at the bowl and took a tentative spoonful as Petunia sat across the table from her, hands wrapped around her cup for warmth as the tea steeped.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting – soup or poison or what.

It tasted just like beef blood.

Only she was eating it with a _spoon._

"It's good," Ana admitted, and realized it was true. She had expected the microwave to muck up the taste, but it seemed okay. "Thank you. I needed this -it was a long flight here. So... you're talking to Harry, you're okay with my...erm... dietary needs, and you've seen Sirius. Here."

Petunia leaned her hip against the counter and wrapped her hands around the mug of tea. She blew on the surface then took a small, tentative sip, testing the temperature. When it was okay, she took a larger sip, then sighed.

"Yes," she finally said, "Harry and I are... we've only had one letter. I'm going to Mr. Black's trial. Harry... told me about Sirius and you and ... that he... well, he said some things that needed to be said, and they... made me think."

Ana took another mouthful of the blood, feeling ridiculous and dainty. "But you said Sirius was _here_."

"Yes... you don't know?"

"No."

"Mr. Black was hiding here while you were... erm... he said that you had been... taken."

"Ah," Ana nodded. "Explains why my bed wasn't made, all my lollies are gone, and my fridge was empty. The mooch."

Petunia took another puckered sip from her own cup. "Is Mr. Black... well?"

Ana shrugged. "As well as to be expected. He's in jail, still. His trial is a few weeks away and he's starting to get cabin fever. He's got a lawyer now, though. Darn good one, I hear."

"And if he is... set free. Mr. Black will... become Harry's guardian?"

Ana set down her spoon and regarded Petunia seriously for a moment. She consciously resisted the urge to ball her hands into fists, instead spreading her fingers on the cool linoleum table top. "Do you want that? Would that make you happy, getting rid of your freak nephew?"

"Harry is not a _freak_," Petunia said softly. "He's a... Mr. Black said that Harry is a hero."

Ana's eyebrows rose. Imagine, being corrected by Petunia Dursley. "Mr. Black is right," Ana said, "but you didn't answer my question."

Petunia looked at her hands, chewing thoughtfully for a moment on her bottom lip. She set down her mug and stared at the bits of leaf floating on the surface of the tea. "I want Harry to go where he is happiest," she said after a long pause. "If that is away from me, then I don't blame him. I have not... made his life very pleasant."

Ana nodded. "I'm glad to hear that you Harry's best interests in mind... _finally."_

Petunia flinched slightly at the 'finally'. "I... should get home. Before Vernon notices. I... I'll be at the trial."

Ana stood. "Thank you - I think Sirius will appreciate that."

Petunia stood to go, dumping out the dregs of her tea and placing the empty mug in the sink. She put the tin of tea away in the cupboard. "You keep that. I noticed you had no tea when I was here last."

"Thank you, Petunia," Ana said, walking her to the door. "For the food and the tea, and for keeping Sirius in line while he was here. Really, thanks."

Petunia smiled softly at her, and Ana had the feeling that it was the first real smile Petunia had let through in years.

"Here, your dressing gown can't be warm." Ana opened her hall closet and pulled out her thick winter coat. "Take this." She hefted the pea coat over Petunia's shoulders.

"Thank you," the woman said, and meant it.

Ana let Petunia out, watched her cross the street safely, then closed the door and locked it.

She finished the bowl of blood, shut off her lights, had a shower, and went to bed.

Gosh, it felt nice to be normal.

* * *

The next evening, Ana had a small duffle bag filled with clothing, her grimoire, wand, and the leftover blood. She didn't know how she'd be travelling, so she thought it wouldn't hurt to bring it with her. It would only go bad if she left the blood here.

She heaved a heart filled sigh at the thought that she hadn't driven her pretty pretty car in almost three months, and waited for a sign from whoever it was who was contacting her at nine o'clock.

Maybe they would drive. That would be nice.

She was expecting a floating talking bubble or a bright flash of light, or at least something as odd as an owl tapping on her window. Instead, it was a knock on her door.

An elderly but ... eclectic... lady was standing on her porch and Ana called through the door, "Yes?"

"I'm Arabella Figg, dear. Albus sent me?"

Ana opened the door, hefted her dufflebag onto her shoulder and said, "Lead the way, Ms. Figg. Are we driving?"

"No."

"Damn."

The Vampire followed Mrs. Figg a few doors down the street, and into her house.

"So, what is it? A magic carpet? A portkey?"

Mrs. Figg pointed at her fireplace. There were photographs of cats all over it, and it looked like it hadn't been dusted in years. Ana looked at the merrily crackling fireplace with incredulity. "You're kidding me!"

Arabella Figg shook her head and smiled, holding out a pot of Floo powder to the Vampire.

"Albus!" Ana snarled as she dug her fist into the pot. "When I get back to Hogwarts I'm gonna kill you! You _know_ I hate flooing!"

* * *

Upon her return to the castle, Ana dropped her duffle off in her room and went up to Albus' office to give him a piece of her mind. He grinned, offered her a blood lolly, and shooed her out of the office so he could finish up some paperwork before bed. Ana shook head, smiled, thanked him for arranging her transport, and popped the lolly in her mouth.

Silly old Albus.

He still had the ability to totally defuse her anger.

Shoving her hands in her pockets, the stick of the lolly hanging lazily out of the corner of her mouth, Ana decided to go visit Harry and his friends before they went to bed. The Gryffindor Common room was filled with students either just preparing to go to bed, or getting ready to pull an all-night cram session before tomorrow morning's classes.

Christmas exams were coming up, so many of the students were getting their notes organized. The Fat Lady let Ana in after she was sweet-talked enough, and Ana wandered over to where Hermione, Ron and Harry were sitting amid a pile of books with several other Gryffindor students.

"Hallo, all," she said, hunkering down in a spare armchair amid the circle of sixth-year students.

"Hi, Ana," Harry said, setting aside what appeared to be a Herbology text. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry, but continued to draw up what appeared to be a schedule of sorts. "Your trip home go okay?"

"Yeah. Saw your Aunt, Harry."

Both Ron and Hermione dropped their quills and stared at the Vampire. A few other students looked interested.

"And?" Ron asked, swallowing heavily.

"And... we had tea."

Hermione seemed unimpressed. _"Tea?"_

Ana shrugged and pulled her lolly out of her mouth and gestured with it. "Well, _she_ did. She told me Padfoot had been hiding out at my place while was ...erm... away with Remus. Before Hallowe'en, you know." Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded. A few others looked puzzled, but didn't interrupt or ask for clarification. "And she said that she's, uh, gonna be there on the 19th."

Ron looked doubly surprised. Harry nodded slowly and Hermione sniffed once. "Well," Hermione said, picking her quill back up, "I suppose that may help his case. I don't see that it could hurt it."

"I hope so," Harry said softly.

"I'll kick her ass myself if she does anything that is anything less than helpful." Ana grinned and popped the lolly back into her mouth. "It looks like you lot have a lot of revising to do, so I'm going out for a walk by the lake before I hit the sack. G'night."

"The lake?" one pudgy boy we ears that sort of stuck out asked. He must have been Neville. "Isn't that... you know... dangerous?"

She ruffled his hair on the way by. "It would be, if I was human. This lolly ain't exactly cherry flavoured."

"Oh," he muttered, and suddenly looked slightly uncomfortable. "Right. Forgot."

* * *

A few hours later found Ana strolling along the shore, watching the surface of the water ripple off and on as the giant squid slapped at the fireflies and the reflection of the moon. It was just a little past half full. She suspected that the full moon would happen sometime that weekend - Remus would be getting sick soon.

She resolved to go coddle him the day of the full moon and feed him chicken soup.

Then the thought of being alone with Remus brought up memories and she felt her face start to burn with a blush.

It had been ..._yeah._

Shoving her hands into her pockets, her head bowed against the wind, Ana made her way around the outside of the Quidditch pitch, along the edge of the forest, behind Hagrid's hut, and up again to the school. She stood just out of reach of the Whomping Willow, watching it quiver and twitch, then walked around the greenhouses and back in the front doors.

It was nice to be able to stroll around alone. It was a sign that the staff of Hogwarts, and the school itself, trusted her. It also gave her time to think.

So, Anathema Oldwyn had slept with Remus Lupin.

It had been nice. Not amazing, but sensual and very hot. It had felt good, real good to be held like that again, and she didn't regret it for a second. She just hoped that Sirius wouldn't get his panties in a twist about it.

She claimed to love Sirius, but Ana wasn't sure.

She really enjoyed the company of both men. She loved Remus' sweet and protective nature. He was wise and calm and... kinda square in an endearing way. Sirius was energetic, a prankster, witty and silver-tongued. He was a charmer. He was a fantastic kisser and he was probably a dynamo in bed.

Sirius seemed to be her perfect match, but Ana wasn't sure if what she felt for him was _love_. It was certain he felt strongly for her, and she was fond of him, certainly. She was fond of _both_ of them. And she certainly felt the tell-tale Vampiric possessiveness towards Sirius. In her heart she thought of him as _hers_.

But that wasn't the same as love.

She knew that if he ever dated anyone besides her it would make her insanely jealous, but she wasn't sure if that was because of how she felt for him or what her Vampiric nature thought of him.

Maybe all she needed to do was give Sirius a chance.

She had pushed him away while they were staying at Grimmauld Place, telling him she wasn't ready, that she had to be is Sire first and his lover later, telling him that she wasn't able to pick between Remus and him. But she had chosen, hadn't she? She'd made him her childe. Anyone lesser she would have let die. She'd invested the time in him.

Yes, Remus had been there, but it was Sirius who had held her.

Sirius who had wormed his way into her every thought. Sirius who she looked for first when they came in the door.

So why had Ana slept with Remus?

If she was callous, she could say that it was because she wanted to sample the merchandise before she decided whether or not to buy. If she was mean, she could say it was a pity fuck. But it wasn't either.

Ana cared for Remus, almost as much as she cared for Sirius. She didn't want to see him sad. Maybe it was as simple as that. She had wanted to make him happy. It had been fleeting. It had been intense. It had been good.

But it had been just once.

Hopefully Remus understood that.

Hopefully Sirius would be okay with it.

Close to dawn, Ana returned to her room and went to bed.

* * *

Ana woke up in time to join the school in the Great Hall for lunch, sitting once again beside Remus at the Head Table under the shadow of pillar. Remus was still wearing the turtleneck, and blushed only faintly when she sat beside him. Severus Snape was still glaring and Ana took great pleasure in glaring back.

"I think I'd like to go see Sirius today," Ana said, and Remus offered to find her a pot of floo powder. Before Ana could stop it, the house elf standing at the end of the table overheard and passed the request along.

Once the meal was over and all the students and teachers had dispersed to their various lessons, Remus escorted Ana back to her rooms where a pot of floo powder awaited.

"I hate flooing," she grumbled. "It's smelly, dirty, and dangerous. What if I end up in the wrong fireplace? What if I crack my head off someone's chimney?"

"You complain too much," Remus chuckled as they walked. "It's perfectly safe."

"Oh, sure, easy for you to say. You _trust_ it."

They bantered in this manner all the way to her rooms. Ana thanked him, and was about to turn to open the door when Remus leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. Ana stood still and let him, but when he stepped back she frowned.

"Never again, Remus."

"Ana..."

"No. Never."

Remus smiled softly on one side of his mouth. "It was worth a try." He leaned forward and pecked her forehead. "He deserves you. Your heart is very big. Say hello to him for me. Tell him I should be visiting tomorrow, okay?"

Ana nodded. "See you later, Remus."

She went inside, took a fistful of floo powder, stepped into the fireplace and squeezed her eyes shut and shouted, "Auror Headquarters!"

* * *

Safa watched with an amused smile as the Vampire woman from a few days ago shot out of one of the fireplaces off the side of the main foyer, flailing, coughing, cussing, and trying to wipe the soot off her face and muggle-style clothing.

"Scourgify!" she said, pointing her wand at the young woman, and instantly she was clean.

"Oh-" The Vampire, Ana, said, turning to face her. "Oh, you. Safa, wasn't it? Thanks."

Safa shrugged. "No problem. I thought you'd come by the door, again, if you came."

"Wasn't in London."

"Ahkay. Ms. Sawwan asked me to tell you that she's dropping by Hogwarts on Wednesday to meet with Remus Lupin and Harry Potter. Would you like to see her then, too?"

"Er, yeah. Thanks. Is it okay for me to see Sirius?"

Safa nodded. "Sure, I'll walk you there. He's been asleep all day. Mr. Potter and his friends were here almost all day yesterday. Exhausted him."

"I know. I'm staying at the school until the trial."

"Oh? That's cool. I was a Hogwarts student."

Ana smiled. "Which house?"

Safa grinned. "Everyone in my family has been in Slytherin for as long as we have been going to Hogwarts."

Ana nodded. "I never actually went to school. Lived life instead. Got my lessons that way."

At this point they were close enough to the cell for Sirius to hear their voices and Ana saw his hands wrap around the bars.

"Ana?" he called softly, and his voice carried through the empty cement hallway, echoing forlornly.

"Yeah, it's me, Sirius."

"Good. I'm so _bored_."

Ana laughed and Safa bid her goodbye. The Vampire approached the cell and embraced Sirius around the bars.

"I went back to my house. You didn't fill the fridge or make the bed. You even ate all of the blood lollies I kept in my bed-side table."

Sirius grinned and sat on a stack of newspapers as Ana pulled up the ever-present stool.

"Am I in trouble?"

"In the doghouse, buster." Ana returned his grin. "Hows the meetings with the lawyer coming?"

"She's terrifying." Ana couldn't tell if he was joking or not. His silver eyes sparkled, but his long dark hair was limp and greasy, his cheeks more hollow than they should have been. His beard was unkempt and getting straggly. "She's a Slytherin and she won't stop hitting on me."

"I'll bring scissors and shampoo next time I'm up to visit," Ana reached forward and tugged on his beard gently, pointedly ignoring his complaints.

"Ana, she's trying to get in my _pants._"

Ana sat back and crossed her arms over her chest, grinning. "I don't blame her. You're a hottie."

"You aren't upset?"

"Why should I be? You're not doing anything with her, are you?"

"No... but..." Sirius shrugged, letting it go. "I guess she's just... her eyes are all... _predatory_. Gives me the willies."

"Let's hope it works on the jury, eh?"

"Yeah..." he trailed off and let his eyes roam over her form. "I'm happy to see you, Ana. Really happy. I was hoping you would visit soon. I've... missed you. A lot."

Ana reached out and twined her fingers in his. "I've missed you too, a lot."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Sirius scooted closer to the bars and rested his forehead against them. "...tell me again about Canada."

Ana chuckled. "Why? Do you want to move there when they proclaim your innocence?"

"Six month nights doesn't sound so bad. Even the cold doesn't sound so bad." His silver eyes dropped to the dusty concrete floor. "Nothing sounds bad after here."

Ana pulled her own stool closer and covered their joined fingers with her other hand, squeezing tightly. "Just a few more weeks, Sirius. A few more weeks and then it will be all over."

"One way or another."

Ana reached out and placed a gentle knuckle under his chin, lifting his face to hers. "You didn't used to be such a pessimist."

"That's 'cause I used to get to see you in a towel." The familiar grin flickered along his lips briefly.

"Don't give up hope just yet."

Sirius actually smiled. "Does this mean I get to sit outside your door again?"

"Only if you're a good puppy." She leaned forward and nipped the tip of his nose playfully and Sirius giggled. He surged forward, lifting his face along the bars, and managed to steal a kiss before she pulled away.

"Woof."

There was a moment of warm silence, and Ana broke it reluctantly. "I... need to tell you something... serious."

"Something Sirius?"

She whacked his arm. "No, dork. Serious."

"What?"

"I..." she took a deep breath and looked away. "I... didn't expect this to be as hard as this is proving to be. Sirius... I need you."

The fingers twined in hers gripped her hand hard. "Ana?"

She looked up and met his eyes, but did not seem as happy as he thought she ought to be. "It was hard, Sirius. I didn't want to hurt you, or Remus, or Albus, or ... or myself. I had to think about it. I had to ... made sure I picked right. Sirius, I'm willing to try to make this work if you are."

"I am," he whispered, heartfelt and low. "Ana, I'm ready. I am crazy about you. I've wanted to be yours, I've wanted you to be mine, for so long. I can do this. I know we'll be happy together." He tried to press forward for another kiss and Ana withdrew slightly.

Ana chuckled softly, but the sound was uncomfortable. "Don't make up your mind just yet."

He narrowed his eyes and strengthened his grip on her fingers. "...why?"

"Sirius... I think I may have done something... not 'stupid' but... not smart. Well, not either. I don't feel bad but... erg, maybe I do. I don't know."

Sirius licked his lips, considering her face. She was... looking... _sad_. Not guilty but... not quite confident. "What?"

Ana's fingers flexed in his and she took a slow, deep breath. "I... two nights ago I... had sex with Remus."

Sirius dropped her hand and sat backwards, as if she had landed a physical blow to his midsection. His eyes opened wide and his arms dropped limply to his sides. "...what?"

Ana shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry. We're all adults. We... Remus and I... decided, together. We've talked about it. We both know it was only once. It won't happen again. If you tell me that you want to be with me, then it will _never_ happen again."

It all started to come our in a rush and suddenly Ana couldn't stop it.

"It was just that... He _needed_ me and I _needed_ him. That's a sorry sort of reason, I guess. But we've been there for each other, you know? Been through stuff together. But I won't apologize to you because I haven't cheated on you. If you tell me you want to be with me, then I swear to you that I will never go behind your back with anyone. But I wanted ... it to be clear that... that Remus and I had been together, just once ... before you and I become... exclusive. Just so there are no misunderstandings. "

For a long while Sirius just stared at her, his eyes and jaw perfect circles of disbelief.

Finally Ana opened her eyes and forced herself to look at him. "Won't you please say something."

"I...I..." Sirius stuttered. "I don't know what to say. I mean... I know that... we... but..." he closed his eyes, one hand rising to clutch at the material of his shirt, just over his heart. He swallowed heavily. "I have to think about this."

"Sirius..."

"I have to think about this... for a while... _alone,_ please."

Ana stood slowly. "Okay. I'll respect that. I'm... Sirius. Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but... Remus and I... we both love you, very much. I wanted to be honest with you."

"Okay. Thanks. Just... go away, please." He turned his back to her and put his face in his hands. His voice was muffled.

"Right. Good bye, then."

"Bye."

"Er... Remus said he was going to pop by tomorrow."

"Tell him not to bother."

Ana hung her head. "I see."

She made her way back up the row of empty cells, quickly and quietly, and out to the main foyer. She thanked the young man behind the desk and Safa, and flooed back to her own room at Hogwarts.

It wasn't until she was safely ensconced in the blanket on her bed that she let herself begin to cry.

"Dammit," she hissed, punching her pillow. "I fucked up. I totally fucked it up."


	23. Confrontation

Part Twenty Three: "Confrontation"

* * *

Tuesday morning Sirius Black found himself woken up by an Auror guard rapping the side of his nightstick against the bars of his cell.

"Visitor," the man grumbled and then walked away.

Sirius rubbed his heels into his eyes, trying to get rid of the gritty feeling of sleep that had lasted too long, or not long enough.

Sirius was glad for the constant company - it made the hours of waiting shorter and more bearable - but god-fucking-dammit! Sirius was a Vampire now. Which meant mornings were _bad_. Hot and itchy and uncomfortable and thirst-making and he'd _just_ gotten to sleep a few hours ago, anyway.

He'd been kept up well past dawn with horrid mental images of Ana and Remus doing the nasty on top of his grave. Okay, so his overly-vivid imagination made it seem more horrible and morbid than it really was, but... Sirius felt crushed.

He didn't know if he had the right to feel crushed. Like Ana'd said, it wasn't like she had cheated on him. And it wasn't like if Sirius' own Vampiric-ownership-y-ness hadn't urged him to bend Remus over the banister a couple of times himself.

The ease of admitting as much to himself was just proof that the darker side of Sirius' mind, the part he liked to call 'Bat-boy', was gaining a good purchase on his mind – and what did a Vampire care about gender when blood came from everyone equally?

_Ew._

Sex with his best friend...just...well, maybe not _ew_ but...

Sirius scrubbed his face on the fabric of the pillow and did the best thing he could think of to kill a boner quick.

He thought of Dumbledore naked.

Of course, that just made him think of Dumbledore _and Ana_, and he snarled and rolled over on the narrow bed.

He was never going to get a break.

He was never going to get any sort of Happily Ever After, was he?

He had thought, he had _hoped_, maybe, in those few short weeks at Grimmauld Place... maybe there had been a possibility. If things had continued to go the way they had been going, then maybe by Christmas he and Ana would have been...

But no. Then Dorin came and everything had sucked.

The time a Grimmauld Place with Ana had been nice. It had been cozy even – no screaming mother, no dank cave, no running from the Aurors.

Just Sirius and Ana, and Remus... one big cozy formerly-human family.

And then.

But there was always an 'And Then' with Sirius, wasn't there?

But for that short time...

He snarled in frustration again.

_Ana and Remus had sex_.

Not fair!

It was just that... well, Sirius had shoved his instincts down. Sirius had suffered in silence. Sirius had been a Good Boy and had respected Ana's wishes and kept his hands to himself and now Ana had gone and slept with his best friend.

And that was supposed to be his reward for being a Good Boy?

Sirius couldn't help but feel betrayed. Both knew how he felt about Ana. He felt like they were flaunting their freedom in his face. He was stuck in the jail cell with only the rats and if he was desperate, his hand for company, and there they were, shagging away on the floor of Remus' office, on top of the Astronomy Tower or the Forbidden Forest or wherever it was that they had done it.

He also felt cheated. Sirius had done everything _right_. Ana had told him to back off, he'd backed off. She told him to keep the PDAs to a minimum, and he did. And instead pushy, whiney Remus had gotten to crawl on top of her and Sirius was stuck sitting alone on the cold concrete of the floor of his cell. If he had just been a bit more pushy himself, maybe... ah, stupid thoughts to dwell on, really.

Ana _had_ said that it had been one time only. That it was stupid and would never happen again. Maybe they had been drunk.

That didn't do a lot to reassure Sirius.

If they were drunk, it meant it may happen again.

And how was he supposed to trust his lover and best friend if he knew that all it took was too many drinks for them to get all naked and sweaty? He would never be comfortable leaving them alone a room together again.

(Of course, then 'Bat-boy', provided him with numerous wonderful scenarios where he got the Werewolf and his Vampire Sire dead stinking drunk and hauled them both up to his lovely king-sized bed in Grimmauld Place and tied one of each of their wrists to the headboard and proceeded to do a lot of very naughty and very sticky things).

Sirius shook his head slowly, feeling slightly nauseous from his lack of sleep and ample nutrition, and the vivdness of that particular fantasy. It had gotten around the prison that Sirius Black was now a Vampire, so they had stopped trying to ply him with regular meals, but the blood that came instead was cold, old, and not nearly enough. It was a welcome blessing when some friend with a thermos showed up.

Sirius suddenly remembered that the guard had woken him up for a visitor.

Perhaps a friend with a thermos _had_ shown up.

Sirius sat up, groaning at the stiffness in his joints, and rolled his shoulders. He winced at the popping sounds his spine made and stood, tiptoed around the patch of early-morning sunlight on the ground, and sat beside the bars on his ever-growing pile of Daily Prophets.

News about his upcoming trial never slowed down, but at least it was now off the front page. It felt weird to be sitting on his own face.

He rested his forehead against the bars and inhaled deeply as his visitor was let into the corridor. The guards had stopped overlooking all of his conversations, so it was possible to determine who his visitors were by scent and the sound of their heartbeats alone. There were no other signals from other people to mix him up.

_Oh, hell, no... not what I want right now..._

Sirius crossed his arms over his chest and purposefully turned his back to the empty stool on the other side of the bars as his visitor walked down the corridor and took the seat.

"Hallo, Sirius," he said, the growl low in his voice marking him as a Werewolf. "How have you been?"

"Missing the crossword," Sirius spat.

There was a moment of silence and Sirius assumed it was because the other man was surprised by the anger in his voice. To be honest, Sirius was surprised by it as well. He didn't think he was so... well ... _mad._

_Hurt_ yes, but not _mad._

"Sirius," Remus began but Sirius cut him off by spinning on his seat to meet Remus' eyes, his hands slamming down around the bars between them.

"I can't believe you did that!"

Remus blinked. "Did...?"

"Don't play innocent, Remus. Ana told me. She said that you two had..." Sirius choked on the word and swallowed heavily. "I can't believe you did that to me."

Remus ran a hand through his startlingly white hair. There was far more silver in it than Sirius had seen in the brief, agonizing moments he'd seen his best friend on Hallowe'en. "Sirius, we've already talked about this. We're both responsible adults and the choices we make--"

"_Bullshit_," Sirius roared. Remus squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head, hands balling in the hem of his cardigan. "This is _nothing_ like Nance, or like back at home. Remus, you know that I want Ana to be with me, and I know that you want her too. I know that she couldn't choose, but it's not fair of you to... to send me your _leftovers!_"

Remus shot to his feet. "Sirius! How _dare_ you insult her like that! It's _nothing _like that!"

"Oh, it isn't?" Sirius took to his feet, towering over the slighter Werewolf, snarling. "Then what was it? An innocent tumble? Poor, hurting Remus Lupin, can't get a break in life. Sickly and needs protection. Gets whatever he wants by whimpering! Did you have to lick her ankles, huh? Bring her the paper in your mouth?"

"Sirius!"

"Shut up!" Sirius shot a hand through the bars and grabbed a fistful of Remus' sweater and hauled him in so their noses were touching. "I really hate you sometimes. You know that? You've had every opportunity to be happy in your life and all I you do is bitch about how horrible things are for you because you're a Werewolf. I spent thirteen goddamned years locked in Azkaban, and I would have given anything to switch places with you, even if it meant I had to deal with being a Werewolf. At least you were _free_. You could run under the moon, at least! You've _wasted_ everything and the one thing that I get, the one thing that I want to be mine, that I think will make me happy ... _you_ steal from me!"

"Sirius, please," Remus said, hands rising to try to pry Sirius' fingers off of his cardigan. Despite his own supernatural strength, Sirius' grip would not be budged. "Please. It's not like that, it really isn't. I didn't steal her. She chose you. I was just scared. I was lonely, that's all. It's my fault, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? _Sorry?_" Sirius shook Remus a few times, violently. Remus just closed his eyes and stiffened, but did not cry out. "You took the one thing away from me that I cared about! You took away the one thing that was really _mine_."

"She isn't _yours_, Sirius!" Remus snarled, finally deciding enough was enough. "Ana is a woman who can make her _own_ choices. You're just _sore_ that she chose to fuck me. Well, get over yourself! It was _just once_ and she won't let me near her ever again!"

"What!"

"I tried to kiss her, afterwards, okay!" Remus snarled. "I tried to see if I could make her change her mind. She essentially told me to fuck off. She's serious about that, at least, serious about... _Christ_..."

Remus glared at Sirius, meeting his eyes bravely, the bottom of his own eyes filling with tears he refused to let fall.

"I was _jealous_, Sirius. That's why I did it. I seduced Ana. She'll tell you she wanted to, but I know - I seduced her. I wanted it, if only for a night. I wanted to be _wanted_. I wanted to be you! Poor Remus, you say! _Pah!_ Poor _Sirius_. Poor _Sirius_ whose always been misunderstood, it's not his fault, bad family you know. Not his fault he was born a Black. Not his fault he was born _rich. _He was best friends with James and Lily, they trusted _him _to be their Secret Keeper, not Remus Lupin, not a Dark Creature, a _beast_ in human form. It was _Sirius_ they made Harry's Godfather, not that disgusting animal. It was Sirius who was James' best man. It was Sirius who met Ana first, and stole her heart, and was always the best flirt and always brought home the one-night stands. It was Sirius who got everything he ever wanted just by _smiling_ and pouring on the charm and ... fuck me, Sirius, I didn't wish Azkaban on you and I never will... but you're getting all the luck there, too! The best lawyer in the country, the best defence, the Boy-Who-Lived is personally pleading your case. You have _everything_, and when you have your freedom, you're not going to _need_ anyone but he people you _want_ to need. You're not going to need _me_ any more! Goddammit, Sirius! I wanted that, just for a night. Just for ten fucking minutes, I just wanted _that._"

Sirius held his friend's gaze. Remus was panting from the exertion of his spiel and his anger. There was no other sound in the deserted corridor except Remus' thundering heart.

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. When he spoke his voice was low and awed. "That's what you think? That's how you see me?"

Remus sniffed and looked at the floor. "Only when I'm mad at you."

Sirius used his grip on his friend's shirt to haul him closer. At first Remus cowered, as if expecting to be hit. Sirius was sorely tempted. He hugged Remus instead. The two men held each other around the bars, neither saying a word. Remus pulled away first, and stared at Sirius' lowered face for a long time.

"I won't forgive you," Sirius finally said. "I won't forgive her. But I'm willing to get past it. I want this between Ana and I, _and_ I want to be your friend, still."

Sirius looked up and purposefully locked his gaze with Remus'.

Remus inhaled slowly, his posture drooping a little. "Sirius..." he gasped softly. His eyes flashed yellowish, just once, as the beast struggled against the mental pressure Sirius was applying. "Sirius..."

"_Werewolf, you will do as I say_," Sirius snarled, hating himself for taking this route with his best friend, but wanting desperately to feel satisfied and reassured all the same.

"M-master..." Remus was able to choke out before his eyes glazed over and the word trailed off into a whine. He lifted his chin slightly and leaned into Sirius, his own hands coming up to wrap around the bars.

Sirius leaned in and nuzzled his friend's neck, just below the jaw. There he was only slightly surprised to find a livid purple hickey with a small scabbing incision in the centre. Of course, Ana wouldn't have made love without bloodplay. He rubbed at the tender scab with his lip and was rewarded when it broke away from his skin, allowing some of Remus' bright red blood to well up.

"Werewolf, you will never touch Ana again, unless it is in casual displays of affection initiated by her. Do you understand me?"

Remus whined an affirmative and arched his head back further, as if to encourage Sirius to sample his blood. The Vampire couldn't resist and his tongue shot out to lap at the cut once.

The heat hit the back of his throat and gave a long, delicious shudder.

"And you will never be jealous of me again, is that also clear? My life is nothing to be jealous of."

Remus nodded, swallowing heavily.

"You will instead be my best friend and support me and go drinking with me and knock me over the head when I'm being a retard. Clear?"

"Oh, please... yes, Master..."

Sirius latched his mouth over the wound and as much as his bat-boy side was telling him to drain Remus dry, he only took a few sucking mouthfuls before he pulled back. This blood was much better than any pigeon blood or leftovers given to him by the guards. This blood was alive, tingling with the taste of moonlight nights and thick fur. Remus' legs shook, threatening to give out on him, and Sirius held him up by the tops of his arms.

Remus' eyes were half lidded and glazed over, his mouth slack and open slightly.

"Did you kiss Ana?" Sirius whispered to himself, and was startled when Remus replied.

"...yes."

Sirius sucked on his bottom lip for a moment before coming to a decision and saying, "Kiss me like she kissed you."

Remus lifted his chin and pressed his lips to Sirius'. The kiss was soft, wet, sweet, and lingering. Remus nipped once, ran his tongue along Sirius' sharp fangs lovingly, before disengaging with a soft sigh. Sirius slowly opened his eyes and lowered Remus to the floor gently. Remus curled up on his side like a contented house dog, smiling with his eyes closed.

Sirius slowly backed away. He sat on the piles of newspaper, one hand tangled with frustration in his hair, the fingers of the other hovering gently over his own mouth.

He had just kissed his best friend.

Sure, during their many years at Hogwarts, and the short year and a half after graduation but before it All Went To Shit, Sirius had entertained the odd fantasy of it. Just to feel what it felt like to kiss a bloke. James or Peter would have done just as easily.

But he had never followed through. Even in his changed state, he had kept that sort of thing out of his major fantasies. But he had just kissed Remus - just sucked his blood.

Sirius shook his head, and reached out and patted Remus' cheek just hard enough that Remus snapped out of it.

"Wha... what just...?" Remus asked slowly, staring down at himself on the floor. Moving carefully, he pulled himself onto the stool and dusted off his trousers and cardigan.

"We locked gazed by accident," Sirius lied. "You fell, I caught you - sorry, I think I re-opened the cut on your neck. I had to grab your shoulder."

"Oh, dear," Remus muttered, searching for tissues in his pockets and finding some. "Sorry."

"S'okay."

Remus wadded up the tissues and pressed them to his neck. "So... what were we talking about?"

"I was just saying that I... I can't forgive you and Ana, but I'm willing to try to work beyond it. Tell Ana that I'm not mad at her anymore, okay?"

Remus nodded. "I will. Sirius, I think you'll be very happy with her. As much as I like Ana... it seems like she was made for you. She's... sarcastic and badass and... a horrid tease. And she's a wonderful kisser, Sirius. Though I'm sure you didn't want to hear that from me."

"I know she is," Sirius replied softly, touching his fingertips to his lips.

* * *

Ana sat before the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, allowing thirty-some odd first-year children marvel at the way her fangs slid out of the pockets in her upper jaw when they were tugged at by a pair of pliers.

Professor Tincture explained, as he pulled back her lips with professional fingers and prodded her gums with the hand that wasn't holding said pliers, that her teeth had become longer when she had been 'turned', but that the length was hidden up under her gums. A muscular reflex, probably due to hunger or sexual arousal (here some of the kids tittered and she blushed), squeezed against the tooth in the gums, forcing it down and thus making it appear as if her fangs were growing.

Ana was trying very, very hard not to snap her teeth shut on the fingers of the nice professor.

He had already explained the biology of the eye-colour changes and her aversion to direct sunlight. She assumed he was going to tackle her ability to change into a bat next, and was grateful that she was safe from having to actually do it by the fact that it was impossible for her to do unless it was dark out. Probably had something to do with animagi and vitamin D or god knew what else.

She didn't exactly relish the idea of getting naked in front of the kids.

_Just three more classes today..._ Ana thought to herself with a maudlin sigh. _I would almost rather switch places with Remus right now. I hope he and Sirius are getting on alright._

In the back of her mind she sent out her familiar and small prayer to both Sirius and Remus:

_"May you find your way safe Home, Child who is lost in the Dark, And may all the Good Creatures of Nature, Be your Welcome and Willing guides."_

Anything to keep her mind off of this humiliation.

* * *

The nightmares were back.

Every time she slept, the nightmares plagued her. Oh, she kept a straight countenance during the day, gave the appearance that nothing phased her, but Anathema Oldwyn had never been able to deal well with nightmares.

The first time she had suffered so terribly from them she had found a witch who had sold her a Pensieve. But the Pensieve was back in her house in Privet Drive, and she didn't really want to use it again. She was surrounded by witches and wizards who could probably help her get rid of the nightmares magically, but Ana had never really liked asking others for help.

That meant that they would know her weakness. If she had to confess her nightmares, it meant that another person would know what it was that scared her the most.

It was just after two o'clock in the afternoon, according to her watch, and Ana was sitting up in bed, hands fisted in the blankets, her face covered with a thin sheen of sweat, eyes darting wildly in the darkness, a scream half-dead in her throat.

Another nightmare.

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, trying to banish it.

Flashes of serpent-like skin slithering along her body, cold blood in her mouth, slitted red eyes baring down on her, a split tongue slipping out between knife-slice lips to try to kiss her. Ana had shoved him off, screaming for Sirius to save her, but Sirius wasn't there. Sirius was in jail. She was going to be raped by Voldemort.

She had screamed loud enough to wake herself up.

Ana curled herself up into a ball, fumbling for her wand. She found it in the dark, lit the fireplace with a charm, and covered her face with her hands. She remained that way for a length of time, willing the nausea and shakes away.

When she was feeling better, she walked down the hall to the bathroom she and some of the castle staff shared, and had the quickest shower she could manage. Clean, calmed down, and dressed, Ana went up to Albus' office.

Today was the day she was going to meet with Donia Sawwan.

* * *

Albus had been kind enough to lend Ms. Sawwan his office for the day, and she was currently sitting behind the Headmaster's desk, eyes skimming over piles of papers. She had always entertained fantasies of getting to sit in the Headmaster's chair and handing out punishment, when she was a student. Now that she was an adult and sitting in it, she actually found it rather uncomfortable.

She had imagined it would be plush and warm. Instead, the chair was moulded into the shape of Dumbledore's bony butt.

Squirming slightly, and eyeing the more comfortable looking wingback chairs by the fireplace, Donia thought about all the people she had spoken to today. Normally she didn't like having so many interviews at once, but it was a bit of a hassle, trying to get out to Hogwarts, so she decided to try to jam them all into a three day period.

First she had spoken to Harry Potter. That had gone from about nine in the morning to around 11:30. She had joined the student body in the Great Hall for lunch, then 12-2:30 had been spent with Remus Lupin. Three o'clock was approaching and Donia began to wonder who her next 'victim' was going to be.

On the hour exactly a house elf popped her head in the door way and say, "Ms. Sawwan?"

"Yes?"

"There is an Anathema to see Ms. Sawwan, miss."

Donia set aside her other folders and picked up a fresh one. She had been eagerly waiting for this interview.

The folder it contained a pad of paper, a KwickQuill (in forest green, of course), some pre-written questions, and some notes she had copied over to this folder from the other two interviews that day. "Let her in."

The vampire, looking slightly tired and decidedly like a Muggle, entered the office. Before looking at Donia, her blue eyes darted around the room, and she asked the elf, "Mimsy? Where's the rat?"

Mimsy smiled and said, "The Headmaster moved him somewhere safe for today, Miss Ana. Shall Mimsy go now?"

Ana patted the elf between the ears. "Go look after your kittens, Mimsy. Thank you."

There was a popping sound and the house elf literally vanished.

Ana looked up and walked across the room to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. She shook Donia's hand and said, "Good afternoon, Ms. Sawwan."

"And good morning to you." Donia smiled a comforting smile, licked the nib of her quill, and set it above the legal pad. "I trust you know who I am and why I'm here, Ms. Oldwyn?"

"Yes."

"So why don't we cut to the chase."

"Suits me fine." Ana smiled, thankful for the lack of mindless prattle.

"This is Donia Sawwan, Defendant for the Accused, Sirius Black, interviewing Ms. Anathema Oldwyn at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on November the 16th, 3 o'clock in the afternoon." She paused to check her notepad, and nodded, satisfied by the quill's transcription. "Okay, Ms. Oldwyn--"

"Ana's fine."

"Okay, Ana. Could you please begin by stating your relationship to Mr. Black, the accused?"

Ana swallowed. When Donia said she wanted to cut to the chase, she cut to the chase. "I'm his... uh... well, it's a little complicated. I guess I'm his friend... maybe more."

Donia raised her eyebrow, the corner of her lip curling upwards in a slight smirk. "Maybe?"

Ana crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back slightly. "Well, we'd both like to take it ... to another level. But it's hard when he's in jail, you know?"

"Of course. Ana... you are a Vampire, are you not?"

"I don't see what this has to do with anything, but yes, I am. I won't deny that."

"And is Sirius Black not also your childe?"

"Oh, uh, is that what you meant by, er..." she felt her face colour. "... yeah, he is."

Donia leaned forward, her elbows perched on the desk, her fingers laced before her face to hide her smile. "Under what circumstances did you meet and turn Sirius Black?"

Ana frowned slightly. "Isn't this a bit personal?"

"Not at all - this is required evidence. And don't be afraid to add..." she smirked, "detail."

Ana matched her smirk for smirk. Ah, this was her game - the routing out of good smut. "I met Sirius Black at my home in early July of this year."

"At your home?"

Ana hesitated for a moment. "Has Harry told you this part?"

"I have a statement from Mr. Potter stating that in early July his godfather came to him for help, and you offered to take Mr. Black in."

Ana nodded slowly - okay, so she was going to leave out the part where Sirius was disguised as a dog. "That much is true. I had just moved into my house, across the road from Harry's Aunt and Uncle's. They'd had me over for dinner, and--"

Donia frowned. "But you're a Vampire."

Ana chuckled softly. "They're Muggles. They didn't know that. I pretend to eat very well."

"I see, go on."

"Well, after I had returned to my own house I resumed packing. Harry came to my door with Mr. Black and asked that I hide him for a time."

"And you agreed?"

"Well, yes. I had been living as a Muggle most of my life, and I didn't really know who Sirius Black was. I barely knew who Harry was at the time. I wouldn'tve had a clue if I hadn't noticed his scar. It was only because he was Harry Potter that I agreed to help him."

Donia nodded and hummed to herself, flipping through Harry's file. "That's all corroborated. Then what?"

"Well, Sirius and I became roommates and I became Harry's babysitter."

Donia frowned again and crossed her arms on the top of the desk. "Harry was sixteen years old at the time. Hardly requiring of a babysitter."

"Tell his Aunt that. I agreed to go along with it. Hey, money's money."

"What _is_ your vocation, Ana?"

Ana smirked. "I run a blogging service off the internet."

Donia blinked, double checked that her quill had written down what she'd thought she heard, then asked, "I beg your pardon?"

Ana sat forward as well. "Muggle technology stuff."

"Ah. Okay. Sorry, going back – you became Harry's babysitter. Harry here says that he did not know you were a Vampire at the time. Was that true?"

"It is. Harry realized that something was fishy about me, and fearing that I was a Death Eater, he persuaded Sirius to help him sneak around my house and poke into my hidden stuff."

"But if Sirius Black was your ward at the time, wouldn't he too find you suspicious?"

"He did, that's why he went along with it. Well, when I came home and I saw them rooting around in my stuff, I thought they were burglars and I attacked Sirius."

"Both Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin here confirm that you bit Mr. Black and thus infected him with the Vampiric viral agent. Is that correct?"

Ana robbed the back of her neck. "I'm embarrassed to say, yes. I acted too hastily. At this point I was on edge, you see. I'd finally realized who both Mr. Black was and became afraid for Harry's life. You understand."

"Of course," Donia prompted as she poured herself a cup of lemon tea and sipped it carefully. "Then what?"

"Well, Harry stopped me."

"How so?"

Ana looked down at her folded hands. "Do I really have to answer that?"

"Yes."

She shrugged. "He stabbed me in the back. With one of my own steak knives. Hurt like a bitch."

"I see," Donia tried to hide her grin behind her mug. "And did you know why Harry had stopped you from killing Mr. Black?"

"Not at the time, no. When I revived, Harry explained to me what had really happened on the night of his parent's death, and I believed him."

"Why? I mean, if Mr. Black was a mass murderer, wouldn't you want to be rid of him?"

"I trusted Harry, and Harry trusted Sirius. Sirius... also talks in his sleep. He... made a few confessions without realizing it. Mostly stuff like, 'this is your fault Peter', and 'don't hurt Harry!' and 'I didn't do it!'. Stuff like that. I had a hard time not believing him after hearing that... when Sirius was infected. I didn't know what that meant, though. I've lived my life as a Muggle, you see, so I barely know anything about my supernatural self. Sirius seemed to make a full recovery. Well, when Harry went with Sirius to the Order of the Phoenix Headquarters for the remainder of the summer, I dropped them off in London and came home. It was ... at least three weeks, I think, before I heard from anyone after that. Miss Hermione Granger wrote me a letter and explained that Sirius had begun to act strangely and she wondered if he was infected from my bite. I didn't know so Sirius and I went to Hogwarts to consult the only person I knew who knew enough about Vampires to be able to tell us."

"And who was that? The DADA professor? Tincture, is that his name?"

Ana grinned. "No, it wasn't Tincture. It was my ex-husband. Albus Dumbledore."

Donia, who had been sipping casually from her lemon tea, suddenly spat a great mouthful all over the desk top. "D-duh-Dumbledore?"

"Yup. Old Albus and I used to be married."

"Oh, god. In _both_ its spellings," Donia muttered to herself, trying to sop up the tea from her folders with her flimsy silver scarf. She made sure the quill had not been dislodged and poured herself another cup, drank it straight away, then poured a third. This time she sipped it. "So you... uh... saw the Headmaster. What did he say?"

"That Sirius would have to be turned or he would die. After a few days of long, hard thinking, Sirius agreed to let me turn him. He wanted to do it to protect Harry."

Donia narrowed her eyes. "That's interesting. How exactly did Sirius feel becoming a Vampire would help him protect Harry?"

Ana shrugged. "Vampires are a lot harder to kill than regular Wizards. He knew he was a target for the Death Eaters, so he chose to do it so that he could be there to help protect Harry if necessary. Sirius really loves Harry, as if he was his own son. At first I thought it may be an act, but I could taste it in Sirius' blood. Sirius would never hurt his godson. He would never have hurt Harry's parents or those Muggles either. I flatter myself in thinking that I know my childe fairly well."

Donia smiled softly. "Thank you, Ana."

"What?" Ana blinked. "Why?"

"That's exactly what I needed to hear. Let's move on. After Sirius decided to let you turn him..."

* * *

Several hours later, Ana walked Donia Sawwan out to the gate of Hogwarts property. From there the young witch Apparated back to the Three Broomsticks and was going to floo back to her office. Ana told her she was crazy for wanting to floo.

The interview, she felt, had gone well. All in all, it had been a hard afternoon - especially when it got to the parts where Ana had to explain what had been done to her and Remus in the Riddle House, but she felt better for it. It was a relief to finally get it all out.

Well, almost all of 'It'. There was still something dark and terrified huddling in the corner of her heart, afraid to be beaten or hurt again.

She firmly told the mewling thing to shut up and stop giving her nightmares.

She doubted it would listen.

But she had told someone everything. All of it. It was ...nice.

And maybe Donia would be able to find something in all of that which would get Sirius off the hook and keep him out of jail forever.

Ana could only hope.


	24. Haircuts and Fullmoons

Part Twenty Four: "Haircuts and Full Moons"

* * *

Wednesday evening came and went and another round of nightmares woke Ana up before noon on Thursday. She cussed, decided to go see Madam Pomfrey about some of that dreamless sleep potion (or at least inquire about it), and thought briefly about joining Harry in his occulmency lessons before remembering that she absolutely could not stomach Snape (he kept _looking_ at her).

The late morning was spent trying to shake off the dream, showering, and going for a wander through one of the wings of the castle she hadn't explored yet. Mid-way up a flight of stairs she met with Peeves the Poltergeist. They did battle for a while, Ana loving every second of it, until the Bloody Baron floated by, scaring the Poltergeist away.

By the time the deep bells sounded that told the students that it was time to head to the Great Hall for lunch, Ana was wondering why it was that she had resisted moving into the Magical World so vehemently when Albus had asked her to join him at Hogwarts.

The muttered whisperings and horrid glares of some of the portraits on her way back down to the main level reminded her. Ana was a Vampire. Ana wasn't welcome.

If it wasn't for her special status as a member of the Order of the Phoenix, she wouldn't be allowed in the school at all. And really, she thought, Fudge had just assumed she was a member. But they had never actually_ told_ her about it. She had just happened to be there when Dorin had... oh, but no. Dorin had been planning to involve her anyway, whether she had sided with the Light or not.

Funny old world.

At least she had gotten a medal out of it.

At lunch Ana opted to sit with Harry and his friends at the Gryffindor table, and was warmly welcomed. Ana didn't have any real plans for the day, and when Harry suggested innocently that she go visit Sirius for the afternoon, she decided that it may not have been the best of ideas, but it may not hurt.

Ana had been startled by Sirius' blow up three days earlier. Sirius had always seemed so... laid back. She had never thought that he'd... Ana's glance flicked briefly to Remus at the High Table. He was engaged in an animated discussion with Professor Tincture, smiling. Still wearing a turtleneck. He noticed her gaze and winked at her once before resuming his conversation.

Three days was a long enough cool-down period. Wasn't it?

Ana hoped so.

* * *

After lunch, Ana set about putting together a picnic basket, of sorts. It contained a warm blanket, a few shirts, lots of clean socks (she hated having funky, dirty old socks worst of all), some soap and shampoo, shaving cream, a razor, scissors, a large thermos of boiling-hot animal blood, and a Muggle novel that she had brought back to Hogwarts with her titled "American Gods", by Neil Gaimon, and two nice mugs.

Braving the floo network was getting easier and easier each time for Ana, but she still hated it nonetheless. A helpful Auror in training was waiting for her on the other side. They had gotten used to having random visitors for Sirius Black show up during the day, the trainee said as he used a charm to clean her up. She had just missed the Weasleys.

She asked where Safa was and told that she was in classes that day.

Ana secretly wondered, as she allowed the young man behind the security desk search her basket, if it was a Bad Thing that she knew the names of some of her boyfriend's security guards. Then she stopped and wondered when she had begun to call Sirius her boyfriend in her head.

Well, he wasn't yet. He may never be. She had screwed that up. She was good at screwing up relationships with Wizards.

If Remus had gone to speak with Sirius, he hadn't said anything to her about it. Maybe Remus hadn't, even though she had passed on Sirius' message that he didn't want to see either of them for a while.

The young man let Ana through, telling her seriously that he would have to re-check the basket on her way out to make sure the razors and scissors left with her, and she agreed. She really didn't think that Sirius would jeopardize his chances by misusing the blades, but security measures were security measures.

When the guard let her into the corridor, he hovered near the entrance door, and let her go in alone. Half-way down the concrete hall she saw Sirius stick his hand out of the bars and wave slowly.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey yourself," she replied and closed the distance. The stool had been shoved back against the far wall and she retrieved it and set down the basket. "I brought fun things."

Sirius, seated on the ever-growing pile of newspaper, his chin resting on his hands and his elbows resting on his knees, smiled half-heartedly. "I don't think they'll leave us alone enough to use the feathers properly."

She pulled out the thermos and gave him a sideways glare.

"Oh," he muttered. "Different kind of fun. Not nearly as kinky."

Ana rolled her eyes and poured them both a steaming mug of blood. She had drunk very little over lunch.

Sirius stuck his hands through the bars and said, "Gimmie."

She handed it over.

Sirius swallowed his share in a single pull. He lowered the cup from his stained lips and groaned. "God, that's almost as good as sex."

Ana, feeling acutely uncomfortable as that was precisely what their fight was about, said nothing. She poured him a second mug, and for a while they sipped in silence.

Half-way through his second cup, Sirius said, "Remus came to visit."

"Oh?" she said with careful neutrality.

"I told you to tell him not to bother."

"I did."

"But he came anyway."

"I guess he did. Remus doesn't listen to me very well most of the time."

"He's a bad doggy?"

Ana snorted into her cup. "You're the bad doggy..." She looked down at the red liquid, frowning slightly. "Speaking of doggies, am I still in the doghouse?"

Sirius contemplated the question for a long minute, eyes also on the contents of his mug. He drained off the remains of the blood and made a face. "I've become domesticated. I'm itching for a good hunt."

Ana smiled. "That happens to urban Vampires a lot. I promise I'll take you out into the countryside as soon as I can. I wish they'd posted bail on you."

He shrugged. "Too much of a flight risk, I guess. It's the bat wings. I blame them."

Ana finished off her own blood and poured them each another cup, emptying the thermos. Sirius obligingly held out his mug for re-filling, but drank it much more slowly.

"So, am I still in trouble?"

He closed his eyes. "I wish you wouldn't ask me that."

Ana played with the handle of her cup. "I'd like to know where we stand."

"I don't know where we stand," Sirius said, irritated. He scratched his straggling beard. "Why is it up to me?"

Ana shrugged. "I've told you what I feel, Sirius. I want to try. I don't know if we'll be great together or if we'll kill each other. But I'm willing to find out. I'm willing to risk it. It's... it's been a long time since I've felt as at _ease_ with anyone as I have with you."

Sirius levelled his silver gaze at her. "You felt pretty easy around Remus," he spat. Then he closed his eyes slowly and pinched the bridge of his nose, as if wishing his words back.

Ana blinked. The words cause unexpected pain in her chest. She felt her eyes starting to prickle and willed the tears away. "That was cruel and unnecessary," she said softly, setting aside her mug and wiping at one eye with the cuff of her shirt in what she hoped appeared to be a casual manner. She didn't want Sirius to know that he had almost made her cry.

Sirius drank the rest of his blood in response. Then he, too, set his mug down on the floor. He sighed, heavily and frustrated sounding. "I wish I could hold you," he said.

Ana looked up from where she had been scrubbing at her cheeks. He scooted forward on his newspaper pile and reached out. He grabbed at the stool leg between hers and hauled her forward so that her knees poked into the cell between the bars. Sirius reached out and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling Ana in for a tight hug and a delicious kiss.

It was a kiss that she returned with great enthusiasm.

Yes, this is what she had been missing. _This_. Remus hadn't had _this_... whatever it was that Sirius had. This confidence. This honesty. This willingness to tease. This boldness. Remus would have asked for permission. Sirius just grabbed her chair.

Sirius nibbled on her bottom lip gently, and Ana accidentally ended up with a mouthful of hair.

She pulled away and reached for the picnic basket. Sirius kept his hands around her shoulder, looking hurt. "What? What did I do?"

"Nothing - I just hate your beard right now." She reached under the warm blanket and pulled out the scissors and the shaving kit.

"Oh, thank god," Sirius breathed, letting Ana go. "I've been dying for a shave."

Ana called down the corridor and asked the guard to send for a small bowl of water. He poked his head out the door, and she passed through the bars the novel, the shirts, the socks and the blanket she had brought for Sirius. Sirius thanked her for them, confirming once again how totally bored he was getting.

As they waited for the water to arrive, Ana treated Sirius to a very honest attempt at a hickey. Between nibbles she asked, "I still don't know... if this means ... that I'm... forgiven."

Sirius pushed her away gently and met her eyes. Ana thought that she had never seen Sirius so ...well... sad looking before. She wasn't used to seeing him without a smile on his face.

"Sirius?"

"I don't know what I feel right now. I want you - I guess that's all that matters for the moment, right?"

Ana suddenly felt squirmy with guilt. As much as she had protested that she hadn't cheated on Sirius because they hadn't been going out, it still felt... wrong.

"I have to ask you, though, Ana. Why?"

Ana shrugged. "I don't know why. I just did."

"That's not enough of an answer. I need a real answer."

"Why?"

"Because I just _do_."

"What if you don't like it?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet."

Ana took a long time to think before she answered. "I needed to be comforted, Sirius. Remus was the only person who was there with me... when Voldemort... He was the first person I saw when I woke up at Hogwarts. I sort of... latched onto him. When he... offered that moment of happiness, that ... chance to forget for a few minutes... I took it."

"I would have done that for you!" Sirius insisted. "If I had been there, you know I would have been the one to ... to hold you."

Ana's eyes dropped to her shoes. "... but you weren't."

Sirius shook the bars of his cell viciously. "Not by my own choice. Ana, you're not being _fair!_"

"Well, this whole damn thing isn't fair, _is it?_" she snapped back. She banged the bars with the palms of her hands and they rattled loudly. "You! In here! For nothing! And me out here, falling to pieces slowly." She dug her fingers into her hair, and forced the seething emotions back into their bottle. She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I don't think I've slept a full night in weeks."

Sirius was suddenly concerned, his hands going out to pull hers into his lap, stroking them gently. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Nightmares."

Sirius nodded. "Ditto."

Ana chuckled weakly. "What a fine pair we make. Two mentally ill Vampires. At least we won't keep each other up days – neither of us will be sleeping."

Sirius chuckled as well. "We're not 'mentally ill'," he corrected in a mockingly snooty voice, "It's post traumatic syndrome."

"Oh? When did you get so good at diagnosing mental illnesses?"

"I didn't. That's what Ms. Sawwan calls it. She makes a serious face and says that I look awful and when I tell her it's from lack of sleep, she says that I'm suffering from post traumatic syndrome and wouldn't she be glad to help tucker me out so I can get a good nights sleep." His grin was huge, and Ana resisted the urge to smack it off his face.

"And you say?"

" 'Oh, no thank you, Ms. Sawwan. I appreciate the offer, but I just don't think my Master would approve.' "

Ana raised an eyebrow. "Master?"

"Well, that's what you are, right?"

"... I guess. I just don't like the thought of someone calling _me_ that."

"Would you like it better if I waited until I was wearing a collar and leash?"

This time she did smack him, but it was lightly and on the knee. "Only if you are a good doggie."

"_Woof_, baby."

The Auror in training behind Ana cleared his throat loudly, tactfully handed the bowl of water to her, and without a word, left. Ana and Sirius giggled as they watched him go, then Ana proceeded to trim the ends of his long hair, and groom his beard. Sirius groaned with pleasure when he ran a hand over his scraped-clean cheeks and gave her a kiss on the nose.

* * *

Sirius' straggly beard was now a well-defined goatee and chin-strap. It took ten years off his look instantly, and Ana liked it. It suited him much better, and he looked far more professional and dignified. She promised to come back ever other day to help him keep it neat looking, and Sirius had no objections to being pampered.

They spoke at length about what Ms. Sawwan had been saying bout the trial, Remus' return to the school, Harry's lessons, the state of Number Three Privet Drive, the advantageous of moving to Canada, and all manner of other little things.

They parted amiably with a gentle kiss several hours later, and Ana felt immeasurably better than she had going in. Sirius had not forgiven her, and it was likely he never would, but he was moving beyond it, and bringing her beyond it with him.

As she stood to go, Sirius grabbed her hand and said, "I almost forgot. The full moon is tomorrow. Remus should take the wolfsbane potion before sunset - make sure he does?"

Ana smiled gently. "I will."

"Oh, and he'll need help to the Shrieking Shack."

"I can do that too."

"Oh, and he likes a hot shower in the morning, and loves extra clean sheets on the bed."

"I'll make sure it gets taken care of, you mother-hen. Sirius, you can let go of my hand."

Sirius smiled, and let go. "Take care of Remus? Just... uh... not too well."

"Don't worry," Ana said softly. "I told you it was just one, and it is just once. Besides .. I don't go in for bestiality."

Sirius blanched, shocked by her brazenness and Ana laughed and flounced out the door. She was in such a good mood she almost forgot to let the security boy check her basket on the way out.

Almost.

She would never endanger Sirius' trial like that.

* * *

Ana was in the mood to get drunk.

That was very hard to do when one was a Vampire.

A Vampire looking to go on a bender had one of two choices. Either a) the Vampire could get their mortal lover spectacularly drunk and then have a little suckle session in the back corner of a bar. The alcohol in the blood stream of the lover would transfer into their own and the glorious tipsy haze would pass onto the Vampire. Or, b) the Vampire could do all of the above, replacing the mortal lover with a mortal one-night-stand.

Seeing as Ana was still kinda in shit for her little nookie session with Remus, she thought it a horrid idea to ask _him_ to get drunk for her just so she could get the buzz. Harry was out of the question, and Albus was too old, and Severus too gross. She felt too uncomfortable asking anyone else, and she really didn't think going out for a pick-up at a Muggle bar was such a hot idea either.

It was nearing the trial date and she didn't want to do anything else that may stress Sirius out if he found out about it, or would give any media an edge if _they_ found out about it.

No, the Daily Prophet had already declared that Anathema Oldwyn, the only known Vampire to receive the Order of Merlin, was planning to defend Sirius Black (also rumoured to be a Vampire now) in his coming trial.

What the Prophet only insinuated, Witch's Weekly said outright: Ana was boffing Sirius, she got the hots for him because he was a fugitive criminal, and had turned him because they were lovers.

While they were only partially right, it would do Sirius no good if the person the media assumed was his lover was caught with her fangs in another man (you know, or woman. Ana had never been too particular when it came to getting smashed).

Ginny had shown Ana the Witch's Weekly magazine, with the moving photos of Sirius in jail and her own self walking the streets of Hogsmeade, and was aghast. Harry told her to get used to it - she was famous now, at least for a little while. They would have photographers following her until at least a month after the trial was over. He flipped to the section titled 'Our Favourite Boys' and snapped a finger down on a photograph of him and Hermione and Ron sitting under a tree, talking, on the last Hogsmeade visit.

Apparently, Harry was used to it.

That only made Ana want to get drunk even more.

Briefly she wondered how either Sirius or her were going to get smashed at parties, if they were both Vampires. A marvellously kinky mental image flitted through Ana's mind of an alcohol-flushed topless Remus squished between an equally flushed and topless Sirius and herself, their mouths pressed against his throat, his head thrown back and his expression one of pure ecstasy.

She grinned wickedly. It was a wonderful thought - but very likely improbable. She was being a Good Girl and remaining loyal to Sirius. She hoped he appreciated how well behaved she was being.

It was a fantasy to file away for later... for _after_ the trial and after Sirius and Remus and she were okay again.

If they were ever okay again.

She hoped they would be.

Rather than getting drunk, Ana instead went to pester Madam Pince the librarian and spent the remainder of afternoon sitting in the library, reading up on the Courtroom practices of the Ministry of Magic.

* * *

Around sunset she looked in on Remus, who had not attended dinner. Snape had brought the noxious wolfsbane potion to supper, hoping Remus would be there, and Ana had been forced to smell it all the way through her conversations on charms with Professor Flitwick.

Snape had sent the potion up to Remus' rooms with her.

Remus was curled up on a pile of blankets and pillows beside a roaring fire.

"Hey, you," she said softly, pushing open the door after a small knock. "I come baring potion."

Remus smiled weakly at her and invited her into his chambers. She closed the door behind her, kicked off her shoes, and went to join Remus on the thick red rug. He tried to sit up and didn't quite succeed. She put an arm around his shoulders and laid the goblet gently against his lips.

She helped him drink the potion and he grimaced.

"Foul stuff," he sputtered as he swallowed the dregs of the cup. "I wonder if Severus makes it so horrid tasting on purpose."

Ana shrugged and placed the empty goblet on the glass-top table by her head. She lowered Remus back into the soft pile of fabric and tucked it around him. "I wouldn't put it past him."

Remus chuckled weakly, and stopped when it caused harsh hacking.

"Are you okay?" Ana asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm fine," he said.

"You're a bad liar."

"I've been worse," he admitted. "But I've definitely been better, too."

Ana sat with her back against the leg of one of the chairs, then grabbed his shoulders and pulled him until his head was resting on her lap.

"Mmm, that's comfortable," he admitted. "It's nice to have a friend here."

"I know what you mean."

* * *

Remus spent the rest of the night, and the whole of the next day in the cozy nest of blankets, napping in fits when the pain allowed it. Ana stayed with him, reading outloud out of book he had left by the rug, and helping spoon broth into him when the coming moon made it too hard for him to close his fingers around the spoon.

"Why did the Faery Chime affect you too?" she asked him during a lull in the conversation.

"Werewolves were first created by Faery Magic," Remus explained, "or so the rumour goes."

Ana shook her head, marvelling. "So the bell has always bugged you? What did you do as a student."

Remus had tried to laugh, but it was weak and breathless. "I would conveniently make myself 'sick' on candy at the feast every year, just in time to run up to the dormitory and hide under the blankets."

"That wouldn't block out all the sound."

"No, but it kept everyone from watching me writhing in agony."

"Ah."

Just before dinner he and Ana picked their way through the back halls of the school and out to the Whomping Willow. Ana darted under the branches and tapped the knob that Remus pointed out, and she helped him along the dark dirt corridor to the Shrieking Shack.

* * *

"Never thought I'd be back here," Remus said, coughing slightly as Ana pushed aside the chair over the trap door. She sent him a concerned glance, not knowing whether the cough was from the dust or his illness. He waved away her concern and smiled softly. "I'm fine."

The long term effects of lycanthropy concerned Ana. Remus couldn't have been older than 38, but moved like a 70 year old on his bad days. She couldn't bare to think of the energetic young Emma howling in pain and coughing and aching and sleeping poorly like Remus did.

Suddenly, Ana wished that she'd had a way to be with both Remus and Emma tonight. Emma must be terrified - she was only four years old, and this was going to be her first full moon.

As she helped Remus to settle on the broken bed in the upstairs room, she pondered an idea. Emma's house was only a few leagues from here, in a half-wizard, half-Muggle community on the far side of the other side of Hogsmeade.

A wolf and a Vampire could easily run there in an hour.

The moon rose scant minutes after Ana'd begun to work on this idea, and she stepped back into the corner of the room as Remus screamed and howled, shivering, shuddering, flailing, and finally disentangled himself from the blankets and the tattered shreds of his clothing, a snarling, snapping, amber-eyed, tawny wolf.

He growled once and lunged at her and Ana dodged out of the way.

The wolf slid into the corner, nails scouring fresh marks into the already scored wooden floor. The shack rattled with the impact of the hit, and he wolf scrambled to get its paws under it. In the time it took for the wolf to regain its footing, Ana had made eye contact.

"Wolf!" she cried out, forcing her will onto the animal, "give me Remus!"

She wolf snarled and whined, pawing at its own muzzle. Then it sat down hard on the floor and looked up at Ana - its eyes were bright blue.

Ana smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. The wolf stood slowly and padded over to her side. It leapt up onto the bed and opened its mouth to pant slightly in a wolfy smile. It lay down beside her and rested its nose on her knee.

"Hallo, Remus," she said, scratching behind his ears.

The wolf whined and thumped his tail against the mattress a few times.

"I had an idea. Wanna go for a run?"

The wolf looked up at her, apprehension in his eyes.

"I think I'll be able to control you, if there's a problem," she assured him. "It's been a long time since either of us have been able to stretch our legs."

The wolf considered this, yawned once, then leapt down onto the floor. Ana stood, smiling, and together they walked downstairs and slipped out of the back door. Ana pointed to the woods beyond Hogsmeade and the wolf was off like a shot.

Laughing, Ana lowered her head and followed.

* * *

Ana's prediction had been right, and they reached the semi-Muggle town within an hour. She paused on the edge of the woods overlooking the suburbs and let her nose tell her which way to go next. Remus, too, began to sniff the air, and when he caught the scent she knew he would, he yipped once and glared at her.

"It's her first full moon, Remus," Ana admonished. "Her family is probably terrified out of their wits."

Remus conceded and together they prowled the streets of the town, walking up and down the sidewalks, trying to pinpoint the source of the new Werewolf scent. They finally stopped in front of a relatively new looking muggle-style house. There were yipping and barking sounds coming from the fenced-in back garden, and Ana and Remus went up the driveway, passing the front door by.

The fence looked relatively new - they had probably constructed it after the attack.

Ana, her Vampiric nature lending her strength and agility, leapt up to the top of the fence and took a look around. There was a heavily-constructed kennel in the middle of the yard, and a howling and snarling baby wolf was throwing itself against the bars, yaowling with unhappiness. Ana could see the family - Martha, Luke, and Mr. Little - standing at the patio doors, watching the wolf cub with drawn pale faces, clutching each other closely, their kitchen fully visible and warmly lit behind them.

"All clear, Remus," she said, and with one powerful leap he was over the fence. She jumped down beside him and made her way towards the family as Remus pressed his ears back against his head and crouched, moving slowly towards the cage.

The wolf pup stopped and stared at him, its tail tucked under its legs, quivering.

Mr. Little gave a shout and opened the door, his wand aimed at Remus. Ana jumped into the light cast by the open door and held up her hands. "Mrs. Little! It's Ana Oldwyn!"

Martha grabbed her husband's arm and stared at her in disbelief. "Ms. Oldwyn?"

Ana grinned, "We've come to look in on you and little Emma."

"We?" Mr. Little echoed, looking uncertainly at the cage in the middle of the yard.

"Remus and I," Ana said, gesturing at the large tawny wolf.

The three humans watched in amazement as the wolf cub and the larger male wolf slowly touched noses, sniffing each other gently. The cub suddenly yipped and licked the larger wolf's nuzzle. Remus blinked and sneezed, startling the cub. Ana laughed and Remus turned to her, his mouth open in a wide, tongue-lolling doggy smile.

Ana shoved her hands into her pockets and looked back at the Littles with a smile that was equally as wide. "It's a bit cold out here - mind if we come in?"

Several hours later found Ana toying with a cold cup of coffee, sitting around the kitchen table with Martha, Luke, and Roger Little, talking. Remus lay at her feet, content to act the harmless domesticated pet for tonight. Emma was worrying his ears and climbing over his ruff and trying to pounce on his wagging tail - all the things that wolf puppies normally did to their elders.

Ana reminded them that although their daughter was acting like a harmless dog tonight that neither she nor any other Werewolf would always be present to calm her and bring her human mind forward - the Littles must never forget that a lax moment could see their daughter escaping and hurting someone else, or worse, getting herself killed.

Outside of the intricacies of lycanthropy, about which Ana actually knew very little, they spoke of Emma's future education and Luke. The boy was roughly 16 and was attending a Muggle school in town. He had been offered a place at a lesser school of Magic and had turned it down in favour of computer sciences. His mother had graduated from Hogwarts, his father from the other school, and both had lived in Hogsmeade in their youth.

They hoped that Emma would be invited to Hogwarts, but said that it was her choice whether or not she wanted to go.

Ana warned them that Emma would probably by invited to attend a school for children who were 'formally human', and told them to turn it down immediately. It was an awful place to send child. She had been. Remus 'woofed' his agreement

Eventually Emma tired herself out and Remus took it upon himself to pick her up by her ruff and deposit her in her bed upstairs. He had a bit of a time managing to tuck the blankets around her with only his teeth, but the puppy didn't wake up.

He padded back downstairs and stared at Ana, then out at the moon.

"Oops - Remus wants to head out," Ana said amiably. "Thank you for the coffee. Maybe I'll see you at the next full moon."

The Littles thanked them and wished them good bye.

* * *

Ana and Remus spent the rest of the night running through the woods outside of Hogsmeade and around the grounds of Hogwarts. Just before moon set they snuck in the front doors of the school and Ana walked Remus back to his apartments. He didn't exactly have the thumbs to be able to open his own doors.

Once he had access to his bedroom, he leapt onto his bed and snuggled into the sheets.

"Your shedding on your bedclothes," she said and he blinked slowly as if to say, '_And I care because...?'_

Laughing, Ana wished him a good night and retired to her own room, exhausted and windblown, but happy.

She was looking forward to when Sirius could join them.


	25. At 9am on December 19th

Part Twenty-Five: "At 9am on December 19th"

* * *

At 9am on December 19th, Vernon Dursley kissed his wife on the cheek. She wished him a pleasant day and he drove to Grunnings with not a care in the world.

At 9am on December 19th, Petunia Dursley kissed her husband on the cheek and waited for him to drive up the street. When he was gone she rushed back into the house to change into sombre pants and sweater suit, and clutching her purse, returned to the curb and waited for the Knight Bus.

At 9am on December 19th, Stan Shuntpike had the dubious honour of being the person to help the very first Muggle ever to board the Knight Bus up the steps.

At 9am on December 19th, Donia Sawwan decided to wear the crimson lipstick instead of the dark purple. She had sharpened her wit to the killing point. She was going to win today. No excuses.

At 9am on December 19th, Sirius Black attempted one last time to try to fix his hair before his lawyer and his girlfriend came to pick him up from the jail, along with the contingent of armed Aurors. Fudge was in overkill mode. It was just too hard to fix his hair without a mirror, so he gave up. Ana would do it for him.

At 9am on December 19th, Remus Lupin drank a draught of the Wolfsbane Potion, and then brushed his teeth. The stuff made his breath foul, too. He selected his new pants and robe set to wear to court. Ana had bought them for him as a gift. She knew he wanted to look good for the trial, professional, but knew that he would not have accepted a monetary gift without having to ask. That's what he appreciated about Ana. She just knew. Sirius was a lucky man.

At 9am on December 19th, Hermione Granger was reviewing her notes on the British Wizarding Legal system, her notebook propped up on the pitcher of Pumpkin Juice.

At 9am on December 19th, Ginny Weasly wasn't looking and grabbled the handle of the Pumpkin Juice pitcher. Hermione's notes went flying into the blueberry syrup.

At 9am on December 19th, Ron Weasly was trying to get Harry to eat breakfast.

At 9am on December 19th, Harry Potter was feeling too nervous to eat breakfast.

At 9am on December 19th, Albus Dumbledore was up in his office, looking at the old yearbooks and mourning all those students he had lost, both as victims in the war and to the Dark. Hopefully today would be a day to get at least one of them back.

At 9am on December 19th, Severus Snape was sneering at anyone who came within range. He was not pleased that it was December 19th. The idea of a free Sirius Black set his teeth on edge.

At 9am on December 19th, Molly and Arthur Weasly were preparing to Floo to the Ministry of Magic. Arthur was trying to finish his tea, even as Molly shoved him into the fireplace.

At 9am on December 19th, the opposition was reviewing her notes.

At 9am on December 19th, Cornelius Fudge was feeling distinctly nervous. If Sirius Black was proven innocent then he would be proven stupid and rash and far too eager. He would probably pay for his hasty choice to send Black to Azkaban without a trial by being forced to resign as Minister of Magic.

At 9am on December 19th, Mad-Eye Moody was double-checking that all his wands and charms were where they were supposed to be, hidden in his robes.

At 9am on December 19th, Safa was filing her nails and keeping one eye on the arrival fireplaces. Her Aunt and Sirius Black's Sire would be there soon.

At 9am on December 19th, Arabella Figg ran out of her front door, carpet bag and one old cat in hand, when she saw the Knight Bus stop outside of Number 4 Privet Drive. She could only assume that Petunia Dursley was going to the trial, and thought maybe the Muggle woman would like some company.

At 9am on December 19th, Mimsy the House Elf sent a cup of blood to Miss Ana with a note wishing her good luck.

At 9am on December 19th, Petter Pettigrew was stalking back and forth in his magically reinforced cage, fuming.

At 9am on December 19th, Anathema Oldwyn had dressed carefully and applied a tasteful layer of light makeup. She had waxed her hair out into soft curls to frame her face and accent her unnaturally blue eyes. She had a Canadian passport in her back pocket. She was too nervous to be around Harry and his friends in the Great Hall, and Snape kept sneering at her. She was waiting for ten o'clock in the morning, when she could Floo (and not happily) to the Ministry of Magic with Remus, Albus, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Snape. The other Members of the Order of the Phoenix would meet them there. She would go with Donia Sawwan to fetch Sirius and then...

Then she would play the ace up her sleeve.

* * *

Safa was waiting for Ana when she arrived at the Headquarters. She ushered the Vampire through the congregated reporters and into a side room. Donia Sawwan was there, one hand on her hip and a briefcase in her hand.

Sirius was also there, looking miserable. His wrists were shackled together in front of him.

Ana threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He willingly accepted her kiss.

"They won't find you guilty," she whispered to him "I won't let them."

He smiled weakly. He was trying to be brave.

But the nightmares of returning to Azkaban had been getting worse. So bad, that he had started to believe them. "Make me a promise?" he whispered back.

"Sure, anything."

"If they... if they find me guilty... if they try to... to send me back. You'll... you'll stake me?"

Ana jerked back and looked into his eyes. He was serious. "No."

"You promised," he hissed, his voice intense. "I'd rather die than go back."

"Sirius..."

"Ana...!"

She shook her head and pushed away from him. She covered her mouth with her hand.

Sirius' posture slumped. Donia touched his shoulder gently and said, "It's time."

They fought through the crowd to get into the courtroom, which seemed ridiculous to Ana. Why should the accused fight to get into the courtroom? Flashbulbs were snapping off in every direction, blinding her.

Reporters screamed questions. Donia kept snarling "no comment". Ana kept her head down, her hand twined in Sirius'.

She had no idea if she would show up in the magical photographs, but she had no problems with being pictured supporting Sirius. He was innocent.

The room they entered was circular, and a depressing grey. It was separated into three levels. The topmost was a gallery. It was packed with spectators. The Order of the Phoenix were among them, clearly showing their support for Sirius, prominently wearing their Medals of the Order of Merlin on their chests. Beside Molly Weasly sat Petunia Dursley, thin-lipped and nervous.

It was obvious that the witch had taken the jittery Muggle woman under her wing.

Ana waved at her and winked. Petunia waggled her fingers back from the top of her knee. She seemed ashamed to be waved at, but looked slightly relieved. It must have been nice to see a familiar face.

The second level consisted off the jury's box to the right, and the accused's box to the left. The box on the left had high railings and a metal ring cemented into the ground by the leg of the chair, obviously meant to shackle Sirius down. Ana felt it was totally unfair – binding him suggested that Sirius was violent, which would negatively effect the jury's opinion.

Between the two boxes, closest to the entrance of the door, were two desks. One for the defendant, one for the opposition. Opposite them stood a high podium and a comfortable looking chair. Obviously the judge's box.

On the lowest level, just a few steps down from the second, there was a wooden platform with a chair. This platform was also ringed with a waist-height railing. Ana supposed this was the witness stand. Around the outside of this were two sets of benches broken up with aisles and steps for people to use to get out of or into the pit. Along one side of the pit, closest to the accused's box, sat Harry, Hermione, Ron, Remus, and Snape, and an elderly gentleman who introduced himself to Ana as Mr. Olivander. Along the other sat Fudge, Goyle, and several people Ana recognized as Death Eaters who had not be captured, or who had been let off.

She snarled at them, raising her lip to reveal her fangs in silent warning. They just smiled back.

Ana gave Sirius one last hug before he was lead to the box. She sat beside Harry, patting her pocket to make sure her Ace was right where it was supposed to be.

It was.

Donia set her briefcase on her desk and began to sort through some papers. Happy with the way they were arranged, she sashayed over to Sirius and began to speak with him in hushed tones. Reporters in the gallery strained to hear.

A door behind the crowd on the middle section opened, and Ana stared with some trepidation as the Prosecution Lawyer walked into the court room. She was tall, and dressed in a very tasteful powder-blue pants suit. Her curly hair was drawn back away from her high cheekbones, her blue eyes glittering with determination, her rose-painted lips set in a firm line. She was clutching a brief case, and Ana watched as several male heads swiveled as she walked by.

If they boys were any less obvious, they'd give themselves whiplash.

Ana gulped - this would be one tough cookie to crack. This woman looked serious. She obviously was ready to send Sirius to the hangman. Figuratively... possibly literally.

Except, you know... Vampire.

Can't strangle someone who doesn't breathe.

The first row of the jury filed in, and the feeling of trepidation doubled. They all looked like aristocrats. Pureblood assholes who'd have something against Sirius for no other reason but his own reaction to his last name. Ana frowned, and caught Fudge's look of triumph at her frown.

The second row entered and Ana felt mildly better. These looked like simple, honest wizards. Good working stiffs with a clear sense of right and wrong. Who knew the value of doing anything to protect the ones they loved. At least, she hoped they were.

An Auror with blonde hair pulled back in a simple bun and in purple dress robes entered from behind the judge's podium and cleared her throat.

"The honourable Stephanie Lalonde presiding! All rise!" she called, and the crowd immediately jumped to their feet and shut up. The people pushing to get in the doors stilled. Ana rose as well. A murmur swept through all the people assembled as the tall, red-haired judge entered and sat. She glared out at the mob through square-framed glasses.

If she wasn't a judge, Ana thought she'd make an excellent school teacher. She had that '_don't fuck with me'_ look down pat.

"Thank you, Constable Ogle. Somebody shut that goddamned door. I don't want this place to turn into more of a circus than it already is."

The people fighting to get inside the already stuffed courtroom let out a raucous shout of protest, but the doors were shut in their faces.

Ana liked her instantly.

Judge Lalonde rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Okay. We all know why we're here. Sirius Black, Trial of the Century. Blah blah. Defendant, your opening statement please?"

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Jury," Donia began, rising to her feet. She turned to nod at the jury, and some nodded back. Others just listened with their pens poised. One was picking his nose. "Members of the Press, spectators," she gestured to her own witnesses, "dear friends, Order of the Phoenix..." she grinned down at the prosecutor's witnesses, "Lying bastards."

"Objection!" cried the prosecuting lawyer immediately.

"Overruled, Ms. Routeledge," the Judge smiled. "But watch your tongue, Ms. Sawwan."

"Yes your honour. Sorry." She didn't mean it. It was obvious. "Ahem. As I was saying... we are here to try Sirius Black. Everyone knows the story, so I'll provide it in a nut shell for those present too young to have read about it in headline after headline after headline in the Daily Prophet. You-Know-Who rose to power and threatened the Potters, Lily and James and their dear baby son Harry. The Potters were members of the original Order of the Phoenix, we have since discovered, but it was well known even then that they fought for the side of the Light. The Potters appointed Sirius Black their Secret-Keeper, performed the _fildelus_ charm and retreated into hiding in Godric's Hollow. Now, as the story goes, Sirius Black was a Death Eater and he betrayed his best friend and his wife to the Dark Lord, who promptly killed them with the killing curse, and attempted to also kill young Mr. Potter here."

She gestured at Harry, who had his head bowed and his fingers clenched tightly in his lap. His knuckles were white. Ana reached across Hermione and squeezed his hand briefly.

"It is then believed that the spell backfired on You-Know-Who, killing him. Again, we know now that that was not the case. He was temporarily weakened, only to return to full power two years ago during the Hogwarts–Beauxbatons–Durmstrang Triwizard tournament. A fact, I believe, that Mr. Fudge, our Minister of Magic..." she looked down at her notes pointedly, raised an eyebrow and quirked the side of her lip up theatrically. "Oh, my... _denied_. Tut tut."

"Ms. Sawwan..." the Judge warned.

Donia smiled. Ana felt her stomach wrapping into knots. She didn't dare look at Sirius' face. She almost wished Donia would cut the melodramatics, but they _were_ helping to get her point across.

"The fairy tale goes on to say that Sirius went mad with grief at the loss of his Lord – of course, here I must stop to ask: if Sirius really had been a Death Eater, he would have been aware of the fact that the Dark Lord was in fact _not_ dead and therefore would have no reason to go mad, _n'est pas?_ I continue: Apparently Sirius went mad. Poor little Peter Pettigrew, friend to both the Potters and Mr. Black tracked down his friend when he heard what had happened and tried to get him to turn himself in. Mr. Black then pulled out his wand, muttered a curse, and decimated a city street, killing thirteen innocent muggles and Pettigrew himself. All that was left was a single finger. Sirius Black miraculously survived, and for reasons unknown, _waited _for the Aurors to arrive. They arrested him, and he laughed all the way to Azkaban. May I also ask here why Mr. Black was not given the benefit of a proper trial? No, don't answer," she waved at Fudge, who was beginning to turn purple. "I'm sure you'll try explaining later. It should be entertaining and I don't want to spoil the story. Ahem. I am here to prove to you that not only was Sirius Black _not_ the Potter's Secret Keeper and therefore not guilty of betraying them to the Dark Lord, but also that he was wrongly imprisoned, and persecuted, and did not in fact murder Pettigrew or the thirteen muggles. Improbable? Possibly. Impossible? I doubt it."

Donia smiled winningly at the Jury before going on:

"I have the collected testimony of several respected members of the wizarding community, as well as the forensic evidence of the city street, and the informed opinion of Mr. Olivander, who made Mr. Black's wand, and has studied the remains of said wand found in the private collection of one Mr. Lucius Malfoy after his arrest on November first of this year. I am confident that the Jury will agree with me that Mr. Black is innocent. Furthermore," her winning grin slid into one of malicious glee, "I will provide the _real_ Secret-Keeper and murderer."

A buzz of voices shot around the room as Donia returned to her seat. Ana swallowed hard and patted her pocket.

The Judge pinched the bridge of her nose again, warding off a headache. "Thank you, Ms. Sawwan. Ms. Routledge, your opening please."

The other woman stood smoothly and tugged down her blazer. Her cold blue eyes swept the room, pausing briefly on Ana. Ana smiled at her like she was her most favouritest person in the world. Ms. Routeldege sneered and turned to the Jury.

"Honourable Judge Lalonde, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. Today is a momentous day, in which we will see justice done a second time. Today is the day that will see Sirius Black judged for the crimes he has committed. My... revered colleague," she said, glancing sideways at Donia, "has told you the story of what happened on the nights leading up to and after the murder of James and Lily Potter. She has, however, put her own unique slant on things concerning the events after their murder. As I will prove today, the true version of events will surface, as the defendant, Sirius Black, will be proven guilty without a doubt. The prosecution has several eyewitness accounts, as well as a scientimagus who will attempt to recreate the events as they occurred on November first, 1983."

Donia scowled and the other woman smiled.

"Today is the day that will prove Mr. Black guilty of betraying his promise as Secret-Keeper to James and Lily Potter, thus revealing their whereabouts to the Dark Lord. This betrayal set into motion a tragic set of events that are now legendary in our community. Not only did he betray his best friends, he put them and their son, Harry, his own godson, in mortal danger. As the story goes," she said, deliberately using Ms. Sawwan's phrasing, "Peter Pettigrew searched for his friend Sirius, to beg him to turn himself in. Sirius, his mental state questionable since his betrayal, pulled out his wand and shot Peter with a killing curse so hard that it utterly destroyed Peter, save for a finger, and killed thirteen Muggle bystanders. I ask you, are these the actions of an innocent man? Are these the actions of a man who is loyal to his friends? He turned against them first by becoming a Death-Eater in secret, then betrayed their trust to the Dark Lord, and ultimately killed one of his best childhood friends."

The lawyer turned watery blue eyes to the Gallery, milking their reactions.

"Do we want this man on the streets of Hogsmeade, or in Diagon Alley, where your children could be playing?" Ana rolled her eyes as the lawyer pressed on. "Shall we allow him to roam free in London, or anywhere for that matter, where his betrayal can know no bounds? Sirius Black is a dangerous felon and murderer, and should be sent back to Azkaban, from which he miraculously escaped three years ago. Think carefully, dear jury, about the decision you will need to make. Your welfare and that of your children depend on it."

Donia rested her chin in her hand and made an opening and closing motion with her other hand. "Blah blah blah. Somebody watches too much Muggle television."

Ms. Routeledge glared at Donia, who smiled back.

Judge Lalonde groaned. If the lawyers are quite finished acting like children, can we please proceed to Ms. Sawwan's first witness?"

Donia stood and smiled, as if she had been waiting for this all morning. She probably had been. "Of course, your honour. Mr. Black, if you please?"

The Aurors unchained Sirius and led him to the witness platform. He was sworn in and, against all common dignity, Donia sat on the steps that led down into the pit in order to be eye level with him.

It made him seem like an equal. It also allowed Donia to flash her panties at the bench of Defendant's witnesses. On said panties was a Dark Mark drawn in black marker and crossed out in red.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Black?" she asked genially.

Sirius smiled thinly. "I'm on trial for murders I didn't commit. I'm just fine, thanks."

Donia smiled back. "Mr. Black, can you please describe your relationship with the Potters?"

"James and Lily Potter were my best friends. I've known James since we were in Hogwarts together, and we were placed in the same House, and were roommates for our entire time there. I was the best man at James and Lily's wedding."

Donia nodded, understanding. "Were ever at any time a Death Eater, Mr. Black?"

"No," he said forcefully. "_Never._"

"Would you be willing to undergo a Veritus charm to verify that?"

Sirius looked apprehensive for a moment. Then, he lifted his chin and said, "Yes."

The courtroom was awash with hushed whispers as Auror Ogle stepped up and pointed her wand at Sirius. "This is gonna hurt," she warned him.

Sirius attempted a smile. It fell slightly flat. "I know."

"_Veritatus!_"

Sirius screamed and clutched at the railing of his box, but did not fall.

"Are you, or have you ever been a Death Eater?" Donia asked quickly, mindful of the pain he was in.

"No!"

"Did you ever serve the Dark Lord?"

"No!"

"Did you betray the Potters?"

"No!"

"Were you the Potter's Secret Keeper?"

"No... it hurts..."

"I know, Mr. Black," Donia said soothingly. "Just a few more questions from Ms. Rutledge, and we'll lift the curse. Okay?"

"Okay."

Sirius was panting, his face white and his forehead against the railing. He was squeezing his hands so tightly they bled. Ana's heart was in her throat. If this went on too long, Sirius could be permanently hurt.

The prosecution stepped up and asked, hanging back only a bit, and perhaps on purpose, "Mr. Black, have you ever lied to an authority figure?"

"Yes," he grimaced.

"Have you purposely deceived someone in authority in order to achieve your goals?"

"...Yes."

"Objection!" Donia snapped. "All young boys lie to their teachers. I don't see the point."

Ms. Rutledge sneered. "I shall rephrase to suit the court. Have you ever deceived someone while under oath to keep a secret?"

Sirius shuddered. "Yes." Sweat beads in bloody red began to emerge on his forehead.

"Would you do it again to suit your purposes?"

Sirius' legs buckled and he slammed down on his knees, hands digging into the railing so hard the wood creaked. Ana shot to her feet and the Auror holding the wand glared at her until she had back down.

"... it depends on the situation."

"Would you care to elaborate, Mr. Black?"

"I'd do anything to protect someone I loved."

Ms. Rutledge shared a secret smile with the Jury then said, "No further questions, your honour."

Ana shot to her feet, pointing at Sirius. "That's unfair! Ask him what lie he told!"

The curly-haired lawyer grimaced. Donia smirked and crossed her arms over her chest. "Yes, do ask him."

"To please the court... What lie did you tell, Mr. Black?"

Sirius chuckled weakly, the sound airy and thin. "Albus Dumbledore made me swear never to tell anyone that Remus Lupin was a werewolf. I told James Potter. And I lied to Professor McGonagall when she asked if I set off the dungbombs in Mr. Filch's office. And I lied to Professor Binns when I said I hadn't copied Peter's homework. And I lied to Olive Bluet when I told her I was a virgin. And I lied to Professor Fargus when I told him it wasn't me who told the Hufflepuff Quidditch team that Severus Snape has a birthmark in the shape of a broomstick on his--"

"That's enough!" the Judge said hastily. "To get to the point, Mr. Black. Did you tell the Dark Lord where the Potters were hiding?"

He shuddered all over once, his head dropping. "No."

"Very good. Constable? Lift the Spell."

"_Finite Incantatum_."

Sirius dropped to the floor, unconscious. The guards took him back to his box, lifting him gently.

"No further questions," Ms. Rutledge said redundantly, looking at his prone form.

Donia requested a recess, and it was denied. Everyone knew that Sirius Black was a Vampire now. His eyelids fluttered open a few seconds later and he lifted his head slowly. "Huh?" he rasped out.

An Auror handed him a small cup of something red, and he drank it gratefully.

"I have no further questions for the accused, your honour," Donia said solemnly. "I would like to move onto Mr. Olivander."

The Judge nodded, and added, "But no more Veritus charms."


	26. Trail

Part Twenty Six: "Trial"

* * *

The two Lawyers moved through the remaining witnesses quickly and efficiently. Mr. Olivander tested the remains of Sirius' wand for any killing spells and found none. Ms. Rutledge objected and had the evidence thrown out on the grounds that Mr. Olivander was biased towards Mr. Black.

The scientimagus provided a diorama, poked around with it, and treated the court to a detailed explanation as to how the Killing Curse worked. With the diorama he conjectured how the final confrontation between Black and Pettigrew probably went.

The scientimagus made a very convincing case for the probability of the curse killing Peter Pettigrew and the thirteen Muggles. However, it was hinged on the fact that the wind was traveling south-east at the time, and no one could seem to prove whether or not it was on the day in question.

There was a one in eight chance, therefore, that although Sirius may have cast the spell, there was no way it could actually have killed all the people in all the places it had.

The wizard from the gallery, who appeared to have studied the geometry of charms, suggested that Sirius had moved forward three paces further than the diorama conjectured. It would have been a certainty if Black had cast the curse from that position.

Donia objected that Sirius would have had to have been sitting on Pettigrew, then. There were no eyewitness accounts of Black standing on Pettigrew's head.

The wizard shrugged lamely, and the Jury made notes.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Remus were called up in quick succession. Each recounted their third year at Hogwarts. They were each thoroughly cross-examined, but the stories came out essentially the same each time. They told the story of Sirius' escape, how he protected Harry from the Dementors, Pettigrew's revealing as having masqueraded as Ron's rat Scabbers, and Sirius' flight from Dumbledore's office with Buckbeak.

Dumbledore himself was called upon to verify Sirius' participation in the new Order of the Phoenix. Ms. Rutledge treated him with a sort of awed respect and instead of jumping on any tiny discrepancy he might have made as she did with the other witnesses, she took almost everything he said at face value.

No one mentioned the face that Peter Pettigrew had been recaptured Hallowe'en night.

* * *

There was a two-hour long lunch recess, and Ana spent it with Sirius. No one brought them anything to drink, but they were left alone to talk, fingers twined tightly together. Their words were heated and intense, encouragements whispered too low for the prying press to hear.

Petunia Dursley approached Harry cautiously, and everyone who knew her watched with awe as she cried out, dropped her purse, surged forward and wrapped Harry in a tight embrace.

She sobbed into her nephew's shoulder, as he was taller than her by at least a head, and Harry patted her back awkwardly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she wept over and over, "Lily, Lily, I didn't know, I'm sorry..."

Flashbulbs began to go off.

Harry and Remus ushered Petunia outside into the small garden that was reserved for members of the trial. No reporters would bother them there.

A few minutes before the recess ended, they returned, Harry and Petunia looking red-eyed and blotchy faced from tears. Remus looked triumphant.

Mr. Fudge was asked to the bench as soon as the trial resumed, and Donia cross-examined him so thoroughly no one was left with a doubt in their mind as to his incompetence and his hasty grab for approval when it came to Sirius' first non-trial.

The end of the day was growing near, and things were starting to look up for Sirius. Ana was feeling much better. She may not have to use her ace, after all.

Then it was her turn.

* * *

"The prosecution calls Anathema Oldwyn to the stand," Ms. Rutledge, who had long since lost her cool demeanour along with her rumpled suit jacket, said. She glared hard at Ana.

Ana stood and moved slowly to the stand. She swore in and stared with cold eyes at what she had mentally dubbed, 'the enemy.' She kept one hand in her pocket. She waited.

Ms. Rutledge paced, hands behind her back and head down, making a show of collecting her thoughts.

"Undead bitch!" a chilling voice hissed from the back of the gallery. Everyone turned in their seats to find a tall blonde boy standing on his bench, pointing at Ana and cursing. "Useless monstrous Vampire!"

The proceedings paused as Draco Malfoy was marched out of the room by the purple-robed Aurors, but the damage was done.

Ana's guts twisted again as she realized that the jury was now looking at her with suspicion and distaste. Wizards and Witches hated Vampires and thought the worst of them, automatically. Malfoy had unknowingly re-ignited the prejudice in all of them.

Or, maybe not so unknowingly.

Now that the jury had been reminded that both she and Sirius were Vampires (and therefore automatically untrustworthy) it would take a lot of work to get them back to the point where they thought Sirius was innocent.

Fucking little Malfoy bastard.

Ms. Rutledge cleared her throat and smiled in a way that said it was time to get down to business. "Ms. Oldwyn, would you kindly repeat for the court the nature of your relationship to the accused?"

Ana narrowed her eyes. "Sirius Black, the accused, is my boyfriend, my lover, and my childe."

"Your childe," Ms. Rutledge enunciated the word so that everyone could hear. It was said with such distaste that some of the jury members actually frowned. "And just what exactly does that make you? This may seem redundant but I feel it's necessary for the jury to understand."

Ana snarled silently. She was doing this on purpose. "It means that I sucked all of the blood out of Sirius' body, filtered it through my veins, and fed it back to him. It means that Sirius is a vampire and I made him so. I am his Sire."

The lawyer smiled gently, the cool confidence returning to her bearing. "And as such a Vampire as well." Ms. Rutledge smiled serenely as if she had already triumphed. "What you are saying then, Ms. Oldwyn, is that you took a human man, one Sirius Black and changed him into a creature such as yourself. You took a human life, did you not?"

Ana actually grimaced enough to bare her teeth at the woman. She forced her lips closed and into a fake smile. "At his request."

Ms. Rutledge frowned slightly. "Was it his request that you drain his blood in the first place? Or was that a choice he made when faced with a death that you brought upon him?"

Ana closed her eyes and covered them with her hand. _Oh, god. No. Ask me anything but that._ She didn't want to answer.

Ms. Rutledge noticed Ana's distress and pressed further in for the metaphorical kill. "Answer the question please, Ms. Oldwyn, and might I remind you that you are under oath."

"No," she said softly, her voice cracking. "No, I did not have permission to drink Sirius' blood when I did so the first time." She dropped her hand to the railing and looked up sharply, "But I was protecting Harry!"

"Protecting Harry?" Ms. Rutledge echoed in confusion. "Protecting him from Sirius you mean? Correct me if I'm wrong, but why would you feel the need to protect Harry from an innocent man?"

Ana gestured helplessly. "I didn't know Sirius was innocent at the time. All I knew was what I'd read in the Daily Prophet."

Ms. Rutledge smiled a mean smile. "So based on something you heard you reacted with deadly force in regards to Mr. Black. What made you change your mind about his guilt?"

"Harry stopped me. He wouldn't have stopped me if Sirius was guilty. He would have let me kill him."

"Harry stopped you," Ms. Rutledge chewed on this statement for a moment. "Tell me Ms. Oldwyn, was Harry there during the scene of the crime Mr. Black is being accused of? Did he actually witness the deaths of all those Muggles?"

Ana felt offensive and petty. "Why don't you ask Harry?" she snipped.

Ms. Rutledge smirked, obviously amused by Ana's discomfort. "I don't think it will be necessary. I think it can be considered common knowledge among the court that Harry was not old enough to have witnessed either Sirius Black or Peter Pettigrew commit the crime. My question to you Ms. Oldwyn was why did you believe the word of a child so easily?"

Ana looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. "I... tasted it."

"Tasted it?" Ms. Rutledge grimaced.

"In his blood."

"In this man's blood. When you attempted to kill him." Ms. Rutledge lifted a prim eyebrow to the jury. "Tell me, how can the jury trust that what you 'tasted' is accurate? How do we know this isn't simply a Vampire's trick? It seems fairly flimsy as far as proof is concerned."

Ana gestured, frustrated. "I don't know how to prove it to you. When I drank Sirius' blood, I tasted it. It was his concern for Harry. His unexplainable worry. A person's emotions flavour the blood..." Ana loathed admitting it. "I can tell what the person is feeling by... by what their blood smells and tastes like. Why would Sirius be scared that I would hurt Harry if he wanted him dead anyway? It made me _think._ I listened to what they had to say and I believed them."

Her eyes locked momentarily with Sirius'. He looked miserable, and she looked desperate. She wanted to reach out to him. To hold him. To be held. This was awful.

'_Canada,'_ he mouthed, and she smiled slightly. It was enough to buoy her spirits a little. But what could she say in the face of all this bigotry?

"You are asking this jury to take what you say on faith," Ms. Routledge said, slapping her hand down on the banister before Ana, then putting it in her own pocket. "But this court demands _proof_. So far you have given none except for proof of your own instability." Ms. Rutledge paced the court room, working up her next argument. "You had admitted to a sexual relationship with Mr. Black, correct?"

Ana balked. "I... uh... yes."

"And when did this develop?"

Ana looked to Donia desperately. Donia scowled, obviously not liking the question, but there was nothing in it to object to. Ana would have to answer.

"Um... er, he began to flirt with me as he was healing. After he became a Vampire we... um... saw each other casually. Um, Sirius and I decided to ...ah... be together only after he was arrested and placed in custody."

"So until this point you were single then? You saw no one else in a romantic sense?" Ms. Rutledge looked over her notes as she spoke.

Donia shot to her feet. "Objection!" She slammed a fist down on the table. "Who Ana was seeing before hand is irrelevant!"

The Judge shook her head. "Overruled. Ms. Oldwyn, answer the question."

Ana sucked in a deep breath, her chest hitching suddenly and her hands twisting in her lap. She looked at Remus, whose head was bowed, his face obscured by the waterfall of his white-shot hair.

Panic started to flutter in her breast.

"We're waiting Ms. Oldwyn,"

"I ... I was ... I spent some time with Remus Lupin."

"Some time?" Ms. Rutledge arched an eyebrow. "In a romantic sense? Are you telling the court that you were sexually involved with both the accused _and_ his best friend?"

"No...! Yes... not at the same time!"

"Tell me then Ms. Oldwyn, what made you choose Mr. Black for your partner? Did it have anything to do with your pre-existing relationship as his Sire?"

"A... a little, I guess. I never really thought about it. I just ... I love Sirius. I like Remus, and I care about him. But Sirius came first. Sirius is more important to me. Sirius understands me. It's Sirius I love."

"You admit that your Vampiric connection binds you to Sirius in a way that can never be so with Remus, correct?" Ms. Rutledge spoke casually, but her eyes had narrowed.

Ana's eyes roamed the room, looking for help from anyone who would offer it. No one said anything. Molly Weasly nodded to her encouragingly, but that was it. Ana hung her head. "...yes... I... I... I can command the wolf in Remus but... but Sirius is my childe."

Ms. Rutledge ran a hand through her hair, looking as if she could already taste sweet victory. She took a stable, calming breath and let it out with a satisfied sigh.

"Ms. Oldwyn," she said almost airily, "your testimony has shown an alarming amount of indecision and a number of character flaws. Are you sincerely asking this jury to believe a convicted killer to be innocent simply because you have a loyalty to him based upon the fact that you killed him and then changed him to one of your kind? Are you asking these people to trust the word of a Vampire with no more evidence than the apparent 'taste' of this man's blood? You too have proven yourself capable of murder evidenced in your willingness to take Sirius Black's life. While the intent to protect young Mr. Potter was commendable, the results have been disastrous. You have admitted to an affair with both the accused and his closest friend demonstrating an inability to be trusted. You seem to expect the jury to trust you, and yet you admit to being able to mentally control both Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black. I posit that your character and testimony is sketchy at best. Can you say anything to defend yourself?"

Ana's mouth opened and closed few times, soundlessly. Tears filled the bottoms of her eyes, not falling. "I... but... Mr. Black isn't dead. He's sitting right there..."

"Yes he is." Ms. Rutledge shot a look to Sirius before continuing. "But he's not what he was, and he has you to thank for that. You were willing to take his life, and equally as willing to make him into one of your kind. You have admitted so yourself. I'm offering you the chance here Ms. Oldwyn to defend what you have done, though I hardly think it possible."

Ana shook her head, her hands fisting on her lap. "This is unfair. This is bigotry! If I weren't a Vampire... if I had just stabbed him in the shoulder instead of biting him, if my weapon had been a _knife_ and not _fangs_, you wouldn't be calling me a murderer!" She glared hatefully at the smiling lawyer.

A murmur swept the room, but all the faces remained stony.

Ms. Rutledge was grinning. "It's not bigotry in the slightest to question your stability and reliability as a witness. Is it not true that Mr. Black would have died as a result of your actions had he not requested you change him?"

"Except for Grindewald, I have never, _ever_ taken a human life of my own volition before I turned Sirius!"

"Oh, so you've taken lives before?"

The jury frowned and talked to each other. Ana felt her calm control slipping away.

"_My Master made me do it!_"

Ms. Rutledge stared at her, her voice cool and collected. "The bottom line Ms. Oldwyn, is that you have taken a human life. Sirius Black is now a Vampire on top of being a murder suspect. Why should this jury believe your word knowing what you are capable of?"

Ana stared at her, open mouthed. Her voice, when she spoke, came out small and scared. "Be... because," she said, sounding awed at the lack of comprehension in her 'enemy'. "It's _true._"

Ms. Rutledge smiled, satisfied, and turned to the jury. She threw her hands up in a gesture of finality. "There we have it ladies and gentlemen. The testimony of Ms. Anathema Oldwyn, a Vampire and Sire to the accused. We should believe everything she says _'because it's true'._ No further questions."

Ana rose, the tears finally falling down her face. She began to reach into her pocket.

Donia shot to her feet and cried out, "I request a recess!"

Ana froze, her fingers curled around her ace.

Then she sat slowly, crumpling into her chair, shocked out of her rage. Judge Lalonde watched her carefully before asking, "On what grounds?"

"To allow Ms. Oldwyn to collect herself before I continue with the cross-examination."

The Judge nodded. "Agreed. Twenty minutes, no longer."

The spectators from the gallery spilled out into the halls, shouting at each other. Some thought Sirius was Innocent, some Guilty, and all said so loudly. Reporters were snapping pictures and trying to recreate the questioning. The other witnesses shot to their feet, either going out into a waiting room with triumphant smirks, or to try to comfort Ana.

Ana herself shoved them away and sat in the witness box, alone, sobbing, face hidden by her hands.

He whole body was shaking with her tears, and all the fear, the hatred, the vulnerability that she had been bottling up since she and Remus had been rescued on Hallowe'en night boiled out.

She forced herself to stop, to take her friend's hands and words of comfort, to go to Sirius and embrace him. She vaulted over the railings around him and squeezed him for all she was worth.

"I'm so so sorry," she hiccoughed into his hair. "I fucked it up for you. I totally fucked it up for you."

"No, no," Sirius whispered, "It's okay, it's okay."

"I killed you. I _murdered_ you."

Sirius grabbed the sides of her head and forced her to meet his eyes. "You did not kill me. I asked you for this and I don't regret it. You attacked me to protect Harry, and I can't begrudge you that."

"I'm sorry."

"I know." He lifted her face to his and kissed her long and deep. "Promise you'll stake me?"

He meant it as a joke. Ana didn't find it funny at all.

She cried into his arms for another few minutes. Donia pulled her away from him and sopped the tears off her face with a paper tissue. Molly and Arthur Weasley came down to the pit to try to keep her mind off what had just transpired. Fudge leered at them.

Ana greeted Mr. and Mrs. Weasley with warm hellos and handshakes. She inquired as to the health of the family (all fine, and all present - Molly waved at a row of seats populated entirely by red-heads), trying to get her mind off of the pain of the last round of questions.

They spoke briefly about how Kreacher was working out as the Burrow House Elf. He was surly and muttered a lot, but he did what he was asked, and was softening slightly. Arthur feared he would never be in a right frame of mind ever again, not after being left alone for fifteen years with nothing but the portrait of Mrs. Black, but they were thinking about hiring someone to come and try to counsel the elf. They were genuinely worried about his welfare, and that was touching to Ana.

The Weasleys were good people.

The judge came back in and Ana was forced to re-take the witness box. The recess ended.

Ana smiled up at the Judge weakly, feeling slightly more calm and a little better. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her Ace. She and Donia had spoken about this in the jail. Now was the time.

The Jury may distrust both her and Sirius because they were Vampires. Ms. Rutledge may have completely undermined all of Donia's work by playing on simple prejudice, but Ana had the one piece of incontestable proof in her hands.

Sirius Black had not murdered Peter Pettigrew.

If she could prove that, then all the other charges would be dropped.

Vampire or no.

After she reminded of her oath, the Judge gestured to where she was keeping her hands cupped together in her lap and asked, "What's in your hands?"

Ana stepped out of the box and walked over to the Judge. She reached up and placed a thin, wriggling, brown and diseased looking rat with a small silver paw on her desk.

"What is the meaning of this?" Judge Lalonde bellowed and the prosecuting lawyer smothered a snicker.

"Forgive me my impudence, Your Honour, but I assure you that all will be made clear in a moment."

"Very well," the Judge said, her nose wrinkling briefly at the odour the vermin gave off. "But be quick."

"It is has been previously stated that Peter Pettigrew was murdered by Sirius Black on November first, 1983, correct?"

"Yes."

"Blown apart with only his right thumb left to prove he was even there?"

"Yes. Your point?"

"If I can prove that Peter Pettigrew is alive, and in actuality sitting in this very courtroom, would you question him, despite your edict earlier that the charm would no longer be used in this trial, and place the Veritus curse on him as well, and make him testify?"

The Judge thought about it. "If you can produce Pettigrew, I will allow it."

"Objection!" Ms. Rutledge pounded her fist on her desk. "We've already established that Ana Oldwyn is unstable and untrustworthy!"

"Overruled. That is merely your opinion, Ms. Rutledge. Proceed, Ms. Oldwyn."

Ana put her hand down on the rat's back, which had been quivering, and pinched its neck between her thumb and forefinger gently. She forced its gaze to meet her own. It squeaked and squealed, sounding terrified, but could not break away without breaking its own neck. "Peter," she addressed the rat, "_Transform into your human state_."

She rat shuddered once and then suddenly a sunken, pointed man with a silver right hand rolled off the judge's podium and hit the floor hard. Ana did not move to help him to his feet, and remained standing by the Judge's box, arms crossed.

She was definitely feeling more like her old self. _Fuck you, bitch_, she thought merrily at the prosecuting lawyer.

"Stand."

"M-master," he gasped, clutching his side. He had broken at least one rib in the fall - everyone had heard the loud snapping sound as he had landed.

"I have no sympathy for traitors. _Stand._"

The entire courtroom watched with wide eyes as the shrunken figure uncurled itself and stood. As he lifted his head, the Judge couldn't refrain from gasping in horror. "Pettigrew!"

"Alive and ..." Ana smirked. Oh, yeah, she was most definitely feeling better now. "Mostly well."

The man was battered, bruised from his fall and aching, sick and thin, what was left of his hair shot through with grey.

Constable Ogle came forward immediately and cast the Veritus charm, rather harder than she should have. She had a malicious grin on her face.

The judge turned to Ana. "How?" she asked at the exact same time Ms. Rutledge shrieked, _"OBJECTION!" _Peter screamed in pain. No one seemed to care.

"Overruled!" the judge barked. "How?"

Ana smirked.

"From the moment he faked his own death, Peter Pettigrew, an unregistered Animagus, lived in his rat form waiting for the day when Lord Mouldy Voldy" (here there were some unhappy murmurs) "rose back into power. Peter here always allies himself with the biggest bully on the playground, dontcha Petie?"

Pettigrew sniffled messily and answered, "Yes. I hate you."

"Isn't that nice? He later masqueraded as Ronald Weasley's pet rat Scabbers to gain access to Harry Potter at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Harry and Ron themselves, along with Remus Lupin and Sirius Black have told you that part of the tale. Suffice it to say, he was discovered and returned to Mouldy Voldy who, by then, was amassing his power anew. He served as Voldie's retainer - Harry has told you about how he lost his hand. I come in sometime around this summer. Pettigrew, in the attack on this past Hallowe'en against Hogwarts, was unfortunate enough to get bitten by a Werewolf, thus making him a wolfie himself. And I, luckily enough, have the ability to control weak-willed werewolves - is what I've said entirely true, Peter?"

The man cringed and ducked his head, but nodded. He was holding his ribs. "Yes, master."

Ana just smiled and took her seat in the witness box and bowed her head.

There was a four second sound vacuum. Everyone in the courtroom was floored. Finally the Judge regained enough composure to clear her throat -a sound which emitted a booming echo in the silent space. "And what magics do you posses to be able to control werewolves, Ms. Oldwyn?"

Ana smiled a toothy grin and when she looked up, the gaze that swept the faces in the gallery was entirely crimson. "Why, you honour... as Ms. Rutledge has so thoroughly proven, I'm a Vampire."

The courtroom exploded.


	27. Partay

Chapter Twenty-Seven: "Par-tay"

* * *

That night the party in the Leaky Cauldron spilled out into the rest of Diagon Alley. No one seemed to mind all that much. 

All over the country the words "**Sirius Black is Innocent**!" were screamed up and down the streets. The celebration wasn't nearly as involved or exhaustive as the one following the news of the absolute demise of Lord Voldemort, but to be fair, most people were still just recovering from _that_ one.

As things had settled down in the courtroom, the spokeswizard for the Jury stood up and said, "We find Sirius Black innocent on the account that the man he murdered isn't dead!"

Constable Ogle immediately released Sirius from the shackles and he threw himself with a whooping holler towards the bench filled with his friends and allies. There was one giant group hug that lasted what seemed like hours, tons of screaming and laughing and even more crying.

Time passed in a blur. Sirius vaguely recalled pushing through the crowd towards the door, Donia on one side of him, Ana on the other.

And then suddenly they were all at the Cauldron.

Petunia Dursley was cowering in the corner with a white wine, talking animatedly with Arabella Figg. Remus and Ana were at the bar, laughing. Fred and George Weasly had created an impromptu dance floor with a few table-flattening charms and young couples were dancing to a Weird Sisters song that was playing from a magically amplified radio.

Ron Weasly was holding Hermione close on the dance floor, and Harry Potter was graciously taking a turn with all the fame-struck young ladies.

Albus Dumbledore and Professor Flitwick were doing a credible jig on the top of a table, and Minerva McGonnegal was trying to peek up his robes. They were all very drunk.

Severus Snape was no where to be seen.

At the moment, Constable Ogle was doing her damndest to corner Sirius Black. She admitted that they had gone to school together and she'd always had a bit of a crush on him.

When Ana came over to slip her hands in his back pocket, she got the hint and moved on to stalking Bill Weasly. He was more than happy to buy her a drink or two.

Apparently, she had a thing for ponytails.

Ana Oldwyn got ripped, stinking drunk, and hot _damn_ did that feel good.

If you asked anyone the next day, no one could tell you who she'd fed from to get that way.

* * *

Late the next afternoon, Sirius Black rolled over in a small, generic bed that was not his and looked at the warm thing curled up in his arms. 

Ana's face was flushed from the left-over alcohol, her body a small furnace from the blood she'd drunk. Her hair was a fly-away mess. She was smiling slightly in her sleep, and it made him tingle all over.

She was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He'd thought so when he first saw her, when she had opened her front door and slapped her thigh for him to follow her into the house, and he still thought so.

And Ana was in _his_ arms.

She had said in the courtroom that she _loved _him.

He looked around the room, a smile twisting his mouth, trying to figure out where they were. He didn't remember coming to this room... what _did_ he remember...?

When he had realized that Ana was drunk the night before, he had backed her into a corner and opened a vein under her ear to share the tainted blood. They were both well and truly sloshed by the time he pulled away, his own face flushed, his eyes glittering with lust and liquor.

It merely looked like they had just done some heavy petting in the corner of the tavern.

Anyone who saw the blood spotting his lips would know different.

Sirius didn't remember much after that.

Now he was waking in a strange room, alone in a strange bed with Ana. He lifted the sheet gingerly. No, he still had his pants on. Hm. And his shoes.

Ana was wearing only a shirt and her undergarments. She had on socks.

Sirius repressed a giggle, somewhere between joy and disappointment. No nookie last night, but waking up wrapped around a half-dressed Ana definitely meant there was the possibility of nookie right now.

Ah, and the nice thing about being a Vampire – no hangover!

Sirius snuggled down into the pillows and nudged his face under hers, so he could get close enough to her neck to try to give her a serious hickey. He felt her arms tighten around him, and in her sleep she shifted, throwing one leg up over his hip.

He pressed his own hips forward against her stomach and she made a soft whimpering sound. He nudged her face with his nose until she was looking up and abandoned her neck to explore her lips with his tongue. She sighed and he plundered her mouth.

Her hands fisted in his hair and he let her push him away.

"Mmm, good morning," she said sleepily, her lips twisting into the sort of smile that should have icing on a lip so he could suck it off. She opened first one blue eye, then the other. "What a way to wake up."

Sirius pulled her close, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him so she was pressed against his chest. She grinned, licked the tip of his nose, and let her knees slide down to either side of his hips.

"Good evening," he corrected, "and I'd say so."

She raised a delicate hand to her throat, skimming over the wet patch he had been sucking on. One eyebrow raised.

"Hungry?"

"Horny."

"Ah." She looked down into his eyes and sighed heavily. Something in her gaze made him worry.

He sat up gently, folding his legs under him and embracing her tightly. He arranged her in his lap, running one hand through her mussed hair. "Ana? What's wrong?"

"I..." she said softly, her voice small and scared sounding, muffled against his bare skin. It gave him goosebumps. "I really did kill you, didn't I? I _murdered_ you."

Sirius squeezed his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. "No, no. I wanted it. I wanted to stay beside you."

"You want to stay beside me?"

He tucked his knuckles under her chin and made her look up at him. Silver eyes met burning blue ones. "For as long as you'll let me."

"We're Vampires," she said softly. "That could be a long time."

Sirius smiled. "I'm game if you are."

He kissed her deeply and felt all his nerves singing at once. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed back, just as hungry, just as passionate.

"To think," she said, her lips moving against his. "All this because I chose to move to Little Whinging instead of Dover..."

That was the last thing either said for a few hours.

* * *

Sirius Black relieved thousands of galleons in remuneration for his thirteen years of wrongful imprisonment and his three following years as a fugitive. Fudge tried to force him to serve a six-month prison term for escaping from Azkaban but Judge Lalonde literally threw the book at him. 

The concussed Fudge was dragged from the courtroom by his foot by the still-grinning constable Ogle.

Peter Pettigrew went straight to Azkaban.

Cornelius Fudge went straight to unemployment.

Arthur Weasly became the New Minister of Magic. Sirius felt that the New Minister needed somewhere to live that was a little more elegant than The Burrow, so he gave Grimmauld Place to Molly and Arthur.

Charlie took over the Weasly family home, and Percy and the Twins remained with him. Ron and Ginny moved in with their parents.

Remus Lupin began teaching DADA at Hogwarts in the New Year, and everyone was happy to have him back on staff.

Sirius Black, now displaced, accepted Ana's offer to move into her house on Privet Drive with him.

Petunia Dursley returned to her own home. Her husband, Vernon, was very angry with her for leaving for a whole day without telling him where she'd gone. She refused to say anything to him. She did not reply to any of Harry's owls thereafter, nor did she interact with her neighbours.

Petunia spent many days filled with long hours sitting in her room, looking at old photo albums of her and her sister from before Lily went away to school, sobbing. Vernon didn't know what to do.

Finally, he sat down beside his wife and folded her in his arms and kissed the top of her head and said softly, "I'm sorry."

Petunia only cried harder.

* * *

The end of the school term approached and for once Harry Potter and his friends actually had the time to study. Gryffindor finally won the Quidditch cup. Harry was given advanced acceptance into Auror's school provided he passed his final year with exceptional marks. With Voldemort gone, he thought it would be possible. 

Hermione proclaimed her wish to be a medi-Witch specializing in paediatrics. Ron confessed his undying love to her and promised to propose once they had graduated.

Sirius Black was officially made the guardian of Harry Potter. Donia Sawwan had great fun showing up at Vernon Dursley's doorstep with all the paperwork. She made a point of wearing her most witch-looking outfit, pointed hat included, in vitriol green.

Vernon bellowed, ranted, and roared and refused to let her into the house, or to sign the papers.

Petunia laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and said, "Let the boy go, Vernon. You don't want him here and we can't treat him the way he should be. Harry's not happy with us. Don't you want Harry to be happy?"

That made Vernon pause and he invited Ms. Sawwan into the house.

She emerged an hour later with a signed parchment and a smile. She bid them good day and Apparated away in broad daylight.

Petunia smiled and ushered her furious husband back into the house. She spared a glance across the road, where she could see a large black dog pressing his nose against the glass of the living room window. She waved briefly and the dog began to pant.

The next day she walked a cardboard box of Harry's things from his room over to number three Privet Drive and left them on the door step.

* * *

The moment the trail ended, Severus Snape was back at Hogwarts, filling a trunk. 

He was finally officially retired, leaving teaching for good, and happily.

I took him a few months to get packed up and prepare for bachelor life, so he ended up staying at Hogwarts several months longer than he had wanted to.

At the end of the school term, he bought a nice, quiet, quaint Muggle house in a nice, quiet, quaint Muggle neighbourhood. It was number five, right near the end of the road, beside a small cul-de-sac, and he was pleased by the anonymity that the identical nature of the houses in the suburb lent him. It had only been on the market for a few weeks when he snapped it up.

The former owners complained of their new neighbour, a strange woman who was in and out of the house at all hours. Severus felt certain he could handle one kooky neighbour.

He was a Wizard after all.

He packed up all his furniture from his Hogwarts apartment and took what few things he wanted from Snape Manor and hired a delivery truck. On moving day, Severus Snape stood on his new porch, scowling gleefully at the bumbling movers, watching the truck back into the driveway, grimacing at the thin tinny wail of the backing-up beeps and the screech of the brakes grazing off the hot tires. His billowing black cloaks had been replaced with equally black trousers and a simple black shirt.

His hair was pulled off his face in a stubby ponytail.

He was going to live away from the Wizarding world. He was going to be a Muggle – at least, he would appear to be a Muggle around his neighbours. He was sick of people asking where his birthmark was.

He sighed.

No children.

No Dark Lords.

No animagi or Werewolves or Vampires.

And most importantly of all, _no_ Harry Potter.

If there was one thing that Vernon Dursley of number four Privet drive disliked more than his good for nothing, scrawny, freak of a nephew, it was _noise_. Like the whine of a moving van, for instance...

**The End**

_**The adventures continue in**_

"_**Oops, or, How Sirius Got His Goatee" **_

_**and**_

"_**Birthday Parties"**_

Fanfiction/Art Challenge:

I am opening a contest for fanfic and fanart based on HPatNN to celebrate the end of the re-hashing of this story!

Challenge #1: Draco or Snape. Write either a missing scene, re-write an established scene, or write a continuation of HPatNN from Draco's or Snape's POV.

Challenge #2: Remus or Sirius. Write either a missing scene, re-write an established scene, or write a continuation of HPatNN from either Sirius' or Remus' POV. Or both.

Challenge #3: Romance! Write a missing scene which chronicles the evolution of Ron and Hermione's romance in HPatNN.

Challenge #4: Create a 'cover art' for the story or create an illustration or a series of illustrations for the story.

Challenge #5: Create a comic of a scene from the story.

Stories of any length and style are acceptable, and so is art in any medium. Please post the finished story either here on FF.N or on Schnoogle in the appropriate House, then e-mail me the link with the title "Fanfiction Challenge". Please write the challenge number in the author's notes or at the header of the story so we know which one you tackled.

All entries must be in by Valentine's Day, 2006!


End file.
